


Our Past, Their Future

by Anguasbitch



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Calm Down Erik, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Charles in a Wheelchair, Charles-centric, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Erik Being Cocky, Erik Has Feelings, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Homophobia, M/M, Omega Erik, Past Relationship(s), Protective Erik, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:08:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 52,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anguasbitch/pseuds/Anguasbitch
Summary: An unknown mutant, Lorna Dane, enrols at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Charles doesn't know who she is...or who she's bringing with her.Ten years have passed since Erik and Charles last saw each other during the infamous New York Incident. As ruler of Genosha and leader of the famous X-Men, the two are further apart now than they have ever been.It's a desperate situation that draws Magneto back to the once familiar X-Mansion.-The timeline on this is screwed, I have no regard for actual character timelines, canon is merely a suggestion and I do what I want :) -





	1. The Trojan Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Looking back, I've had to age up the X-Men for the story to work out like I want it to. Charles and Erik are 'Age of Apocalypse' ages because I'm shallow and I like them pretty. I'll explain how as I go on (read: when I figure out a reason as to why they haven't aged). 
> 
> Like I said, canon is just a suggestion and I do what I like :P

In spite of the danger that was fast approaching, Charles Xavier felt a wave of calm wash over him as he and his most senior X-Men took position at the mansion’s front entrance. On the other side of the old oak doors, a group of heavily-armed soldiers were stalking their way towards the X-Mansion. Charles didn’t know what had drawn them here, but it was clear they knew what to expect. All the soldiers were wearing telepathy-resistance headgear, meaning that Charles couldn’t get even the smallest peek into their minds. It was Illyana, training on the other side of the ground that had spotted the assault and teleported back to warn the other mutants. Both her and her brother were currently sneaking the rest of the students through the escape route, located on the far-side of the building. They would have made it to safety before the first soldier was through the door.

Around and in front of him were his most trusted students. Jean, Scott, Hank, Rogue and Alex had been on countless missions as X-Men over many years now and were all formidable foes on the battlefield. Jean alone could likely deal with the attack by herself – not that Charles would ever allow that to happen. 

‘X-Men, are you all clear on what needs to happen?’

Alex answered without taking his eyes off the double-doors. 

‘Me and Scott in front leading the attack. Hank and Rogue hard-hitting in the centerfield. You and Jean will deal with anyone who gets as far as this door’. His tone was brusque but polite; the voice of a soldier to a superior officer. 

‘Perfect Alex, well done,’ Charles noted the small smile that crept onto the man’s face, still happy to hear Charles' approval ‘steady now. They’ll be here soon’

In the following silence, Charles could make out the sounds of heavy boots on wet grass. The sound of weaponry clanging as bodies made their way quickly up the lawn. It would seem the soldiers were confident enough not to bother with stealth. More fool them, Charles couldn’t help but think to himself. 

An unexpected sound caught his attention. Footsteps, coming from the hallway behind them. Swinging round in his chair, Charles caught sight of the intruder and visibly relaxed. 

‘Lorna’ Charles admonished ‘you shouldn’t be here my dear. Where are Piotr and Illyana?’

Lorna was an older student; technically old enough to be a teacher, relatively new to the school and largely untrained. She had striking green hair and a modest control over the temperature if Charles remembered correctly. She and Alex had formed what seemed to be a budding romance and Charles theorised that her appearance now came from a desire to be close to her boyfriend. Charles quietly mused if any of us ever actually stop acting like teenagers.

‘Piotr sent me, they need your help. They’ve run into trouble’

Almost subconsciously, Charles noticed that Lorna hadn’t said ‘we’ve run into trouble’. 

‘What kind of trouble?’

Instead of answering him, Lorna raised her voice to speak directly to the others.

‘Havok, Beast – you need to get to the escape route. Piotr and Illyana have run into trouble, they need your help’

The mutants turned to look at Charles, who nodded his agreement. He could afford for them to go, he still had another three X-Men, not including himself. The Rasputin siblings may not be so lucky. Charles watched as Alex and Hank made their exit down the same hallway Lorna had arrived. He turned his attention once again to his newest student, inescapably aware of the soldiers who were almost at the front door.

‘Lorna, what is going on?’ Charles demanded, struggling to keep his voice calm. His remaining X-Men were still focused on the attack and he didn’t want to distract them.

Piercing grey eyes met his and alarmingly, Charles felt his stomach drop.

Something wasn’t right. Why would Piotr send Lorna to ask for help? She wasn’t the fastest nor could she teleport. Charles wasn’t even sure if she knew the layout of the mansion all that well yet.

‘Charles’ Lorna said soothingly ‘I need you to trust me’

Something about the way she spoke caused a wave of panic to rise in Charles. She hadn’t called him Professor. She seemed confident, assured, arrogant even– not at all like her usual unassuming self. Charles quickly skimmed the surface waters of her mind. They felt oddly familiar in a way they never had before.

‘Professor’ Rogue drawled from the other side of him, interrupting his reverie, ‘you look as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full o’ rocking chairs. Is everything alright?’

Charles didn’t try to suppress his smile. 

‘Everything’s fine my dear, please, stay focused on the team on the lawn. They’ll be coming through the doors any moment now’

“Yes Sir” Rogue turned back around, floating herself a few feet into the air. 

Movement drew his attention back to Lorna. She had raised her right hand, fingers spread apart, in the direction of the double-doors. Suddenly, objects started flying in the direction of the door, seemingly at Lorna’s command. Telekinesis? Charles thought back to their classes together; Lorna had never showed any telekinetic potential. Before he could shout to warn the others, Charles saw that the objects were smelting themselves across the main entrance, creating a barricade through which their attackers would have to force their way through. It would buy them a few extra minutes. 

Charles turned towards the green haired mutant, “Lorna, how on earth…”

He stopped as a flash of recognition flared in his mind. The young woman was standing, one arm raised, legs apart, with a look of fierce contempt on her face. Charles knew that expression, he would never forget it. It was the same look that haunted both his nightmares and his dreams. His breathing became shallow as he properly took in Lorna’s appearance for the first time. She wasn’t just tall but imposing. Not thin but lean. Steel grey eyes. With a feeling of almost overwhelming nausea, Charles turned once again to the newly erected barricade.

Metal. It was completely made of metal. 

He’d let a bloody Lehnsherr into his mansion. 

He didn’t know how or where or when but Charles knew with every fibre of his being that the mutant standing before him was Erik’s daughter. 

“X-MEN GET OUT!!” Charles bellowed at the top of his lungs. 

Scott, Jean and Rogue all turned to look at him, confusion painted across all of their faces. He watched as they looked between the newly formed barricade and Lorna, clearly trying to decide where the source of their Professor’s panic was coming from. Charles swung to face them directly, putting himself between Lorna and his students. 

“GET OUT OF HERE NOW, GET TO THE OTHERS, RUN!” 

Unsure whether it was confusion or terror that got his team running back through the mansion and towards safety, Charles decided he didn’t care. Whatever was about to happen, he’d be damned if he was going to drag his students into it too. 

Lorna had brought both hands in front of her now, forming what appeared to be a portal with one. Charles faltered, Erik couldn’t make portals, could he? Perhaps he was mistaken. Charles dismissed the thought as soon as it appeared. The girl was a Lehnsherr. Did Lorna have exactly the same power set or was she more advanced? Charles baulked at the idea of a more powerful Magneto. 

The portal widened, stopping any further thought. Pulsing with a bright green light, Charles thought he could make out the shape of figures on the other side. In a last attempt to regain control of the situation, Charles threw himself at Lorna’s mind, crashing himself into it without any regard for the pain it would inevitably cause. Instead of uncovering what Lorna had planned or who she really was, Charles was met with a wall of solid diamond. Impenetrable without prior preparation; the mental block was one Xavier was familiar with.

Emma Frost. 

The White Queen was guarding Lorna’s mind. With a sinking realisation, Charles realised what that meant; she was close. Emma Frost had been in striking distance of the mansion for God knows how long and Charles had been too arrogant to notice. 

Interrupting his self-flagellation, figures began emerging from the portal Lorna had created. First through was Emma Frost, as resplendent as she was chilling. Then came Pyro, Toad, Sabretooth and finally, of course, was Erik himself. 

In an instant Magneto’s eyes met Charles’.

‘Hello old friend’ he smirked. 

Before Charles could respond, Sabretooth moved behind him and the world turned black.


	2. An Old Friend Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally nothing nice happens in this chapter. Erik's an arse, Emma's an arse and what has happened to Charles?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hint at a few things in the course of this chapter. Don't worry, I'll explain as I go on...

It was Illyana that had convinced Alex and Piotr to retreat back to the common room. 

‘Look’ she continued in her clipped Russian accent ‘with us in here, we’re close enough to help the Professor if he needs it and close enough to our exit to still get the students out if we need to’. 

‘Hmm’ Alex murmured in response. 

Something was going on. He and Hank had raced back through the mansion, only to find the Rasputins and the rest of the students sitting pretty at the rendezvous spot. Piotr and his sister had been just as confused as they were when they had recounted what Lorna had said. Had Lorna seen something they hadn’t? If she had, why hadn’t she said anything? Why did she risk coming back through the mansion to tell the Professor? Alex wondered if something had been happening that shouldn’t have been. Illyana, for example, may have been toying with the idea of doubling back to join the fight. She hadn’t been in Westchester as long as her brother and it sometimes seemed like she wanted to prove herself still. That would explain why Lorna had come straight to them – she wouldn’t have wanted to challenge Magik herself. 

Illyana was right about one thing though; retreating back to the mansion’s common room did seem to be the best option. They were nowhere near close enough to get caught up in the fight at the main entrance, but one of the younger students with them – was his names James? – had enhanced senses (as well as a whole host of X-Men friendly abilities if Alex remembered correctly. He’d be a good addition to the team one day). The boy would be able to hear if the Professor was getting into trouble. If that happened, Alex and Hank could get back to the main doors in under a minute. 

Long minutes passed, and nothing happened. Alex had just begun to settle into his spot at the end of one of the sofas when James came up to him. 

‘Alex, the professor is shouting’ 

Alex forced himself to stay calm. He didn’t want to panic the other students. 

‘What is he saying James?’

The boy hesitated, seemingly to listen again. 

‘He’s telling everyone to get out’ the young boy almost whispered.

Alex and Hank were both on their feet before they could properly process what had been said. 

‘You two get the students out of here’ Alex barked at Piotr, who had been reading a book to a first-year student, ‘me and Hank are going to see what the hell is going on’.   
Hank shot towards the door, with Alex right at his heels. Alex tried not to think about Lorna, who was most likely caught up in whatever was happening. She hadn’t even completed a session in the Danger Room. 

‘No’ Illyana ordered. 

The X-Men skidded to a halt. 

‘You aren’t going anywhere. You’re going to stay here and keep the students safe’.

Spinning around to face the blonde, Alex noted with alarm that Magik had drawn her sword. 

Piotr looked down at his sister, a look of confusion falling across his metal features.

‘What is it snowflake?’

Alex spoke before anything else could be said.

‘Magik, we have haven’t got time for this. We’re going to help the Professor, I need you two – both of you – to help the students get out of here. I know you can fight and that is why I am asking you to keep them safe’. 

The Russian began laughing. 

‘You still haven’t figured it out yet have you?’ she sneered ‘Always the same old simple Alex’.

It wasn’t just him that noticed the difference. A frown fell across the faces of everyone in the room. Illyana’s accent had disappeared. Her voice now soundly unpleasantly familiar.

Before anyone had the time to respond, an eerie light began glowing on the left-hand side of the room in front of the doorway. The light quickly grew and shone brighter, and before Alex could recognise it for what it was, three figures were already stepping through. Alex, Hank and Piotr all shot in front of the portal, instinctively shielding the students from whoever was coming through. 

Time seemed to stop as the trio realised who had just broke into their hideaway. 

Magneto was striding confidently into the room.

His cape, which had once seemed so comical, billowed as he swept around the perimeter of the space, encircling the students before the X-Men facing him had a chance to think about what was going on. His face was stern and unforgiving; his rule of Genosha had obviously not softened him at all. Alex battled both the urge to run away as fast as he could and the urge to lunge for the man he had once called Erik. Only two decades of training kept his feet firmly rooted to the floor. 

Close behind Magento was Emma Frost. Hank bristled as she walked past, his blue fur visibly standing up on end. Erik’s second in command was possibly even more hated than the Master of Magnetism himself. Cruel and vindictive, she was widely believed to be the one who incited the infamous New York Massacre. The devastation caused there had cost the mutant struggle, and the native human population, dearly. She was in diamond form now, although this did nothing to disguise the glare of her cold, beautiful eyes. Last to come through the portal was Lorna, Alex realised with relief. She hadn’t been hurt. The portal closed behind her.

A sense of dread began to rise as he took in the scene fully. Lorna didn’t look scared or shocked or even worried, for that matter. She walked calmly alongside Frost, without having to be coerced. When she came to a halt, slightly behind and to the left of Magneto she looked…at home. Alex had been sure of very little in his life, but he knew with absolute certainty that he didn’t want to know what was going on in that moment. 

Pandemonium broke loose as the small assembled crowd saw who had entered the room. Teenagers began screaming; the youngest among them began wailing uncontrollably. Several mutants shot in the opposite direction of the intruders, heading for an exit that didn’t exist. The people who they feared most, more than any bigot, more than any government official, more than any Purifier even, were standing right beside them. 

‘Enough!’ Magneto commanded, breaking his composure for only a second. 

The room fell silent in an instant. Only muffled whimpers could be heard. It was Hank who spoke first.

‘What the hell is this Magneto?’ he growled. None of the original X-Men knew him as Erik anymore. Nobody after them had ever dared to call him by his ‘human’ name.   
The ruler of Genosha ignored Hank and instead spoke to the room. 

‘I know what many of you have heard about me. You have been told that I am a terrorist and a murderer. You will have heard that I am not to be trusted and that those who follow me are not to be trusted. The word evil has been used to describe me and my actions. Perhaps some of your teachers have gone so far as to call me a monster’.

Magneto looked directly at Alex. Sheer superhuman effort stopped the older Summers brother from rolling his eyes. 

‘I want you to know that what you’ve been told is true’

Hank turned sharply to look at Alex, a look of confusion clouding his face. Alex didn’t recognise this initiation speech either. 

‘Magneto and the Brotherhood are not to be trusted’, he solemnly intoned, ‘We put mutant life above all others and we will do anything to protect that life. No matter who threatens that life. However, we do not come to you today as the Brotherhood. We do not come to you as the leaders of Genosha. We come to you as Erik, Emma, Raven and Lorna’.

Alex watched Piotr look on in horror as his sister grew blue scales and revealed herself to be Mystique. How long had she been here? Where was Illyana? Alex’s own heart sank as he heard his girlfriend’s name alongside Magneto’s. He felt his left hand clench. The crowd audibly inhaled at the use of their human names. 

‘We come to you as equals and to ask for your help.’

Silence permeated the common room. The master of magnetism did not flinch.

‘Hell will freeze over before any of us help you Magneto’ Alex said, before he could think better of it. 

The taller man paced over towards him, leaning into his personal space so that Alex could smell the cologne he was wearing. Magneto grinned. Alex’s stomach rolled. 

‘Oh Mr Summers. I believe you will. Emma my love, show them that we’re serious’.

The next instant, blinding pain shot through Alex’s body. He stumbled, falling to his knees and tried to find out where the attack was coming from. With horror, he realised the rest of the room were screaming out. Piotr had curled into a ball, his hands covering his ears in an attempt to stop the onslaught. James, the little boy who had first heard Charles cry out, had tears streaming down his young face. Lifting his head, Alex saw Frost with her fingers set to her temple; a twisted version of the Professor’s familiar, warm gesture. 

It was a telepathic attack. Only Magneto, Mystique and Lorna were unaffected. For a fraction of a second, Alex thought he saw regret flicker across Lorna’s face.

Soon more screams joined them, this time from outside the common room. A shudder racked through Alex’s body as another wave of pain crashed into him. The door opened, and Alex caught a glimpse of Sabretooth, who hastily threw Scott, Jean and Rogue through the old oak door. Jean wasn’t moving and both Scott and Rogue were writhing on the carpet.

‘Ah the rest of the X-Men’ Magneto mocked ‘I see you’ve finally decided to join us. Emma, give them a breather’

Alex heaved as his body was freed from the assault. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat and his hands shook as he slowly lifted himself from the floor. 

‘We are here to ask for your help,’ Magneto continued ‘but if that help does not come willingly, we will take it from you. It would be wise for you to cooperate’. Erik began walking over the bodies of the students still on the floor.

‘You will stay here whilst I talk to your Professor. Emma, Raven and Lorna will keep you company’

‘No!’ Alex cried, pushing himself at Magneto who was almost out of the door. He wouldn’t let that man get to Charles. 

The older Summers brother screamed as pain drove into him, absolutely unforgiving in it’s attack. Alex thought he heard Scott protest. For the second time in less than a minute, Alex was brought to his knees. 

‘You will all stay here,’ Magneto continued, without looking back, ‘I trust Miss Frost can convince you to behave. Even you, Mr Summers’. 

With that, he was gone.


	3. The Once and Future King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik are reunited.

The hallways of Westchester still felt familiar to Erik, despite the countless rebuilds the Mansion had seen over the decades. The wood still smelled the same and the carpet was still soft underfoot. If he reached out, he knew he would be able to feel the screws used to fix the wooden battens in place. He passed the old grandfather clock he had first seen back in 1962 and knew without thinking that by taking the next left, climbing the flight of stairs, left again and counting four doors down, he would find Charles’ room. There are some things that even the passing decades cannot make you forget. There would have been a time when in this situation, Erik’s thoughts would solely be on Charles. Today however, he was not granted that luxury. His mind kept creeping back to Lorna in the common room downstairs. Despite her position back home she was unaccustomed to hostility, having spent most of her life in the confines of Genosha. Erik was less worried about her, but rather for the group of students surrounding her, should she lose her temper. 

As he made the final corner towards what he had always mentally referred to as ‘Charles’ corridor’, Erik allowed himself a rare moment of trepidation. He had last seen Charles ten years ago in New York, where Erik’s actions had resulted in his own permanent exile and a government-clad promise of execution should he ever step foot on anything other than Genoshan soil ever again. There had been no contact between himself and Charles in the interluding years; no heated debates, no telephone calls, no hidden meetings as there had once been between them - even in their most fraught times together. This time Erik had been met with absolute radio silence. 

Entering the room, Pyro glanced up from where he had been stationed at Xavier’s bedside. Without saying a word to Erik, the fire manipulator left the room. Despite working alongside him for several years now, John Allerdyce had never truly seemed comfortable in the master of magnetism’s presence. He was loyal though and Erik valued that now more than he ever had done before. 

Stepping towards Charles’ bed, Erik slowly let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and did his best to dispel any thoughts of memories he had once made in this room. Slowly reaching out to trace Charles’ cheekbone with the back of his hand, Erik was momentarily taken aback by how young Charles looked. He wondered if Charles would think the same of him. Erik made a mental note to allow Sway another trip out into the city, the results of her work were undeniable. Looking at Charles as he was now, Erik could almost believe the past fifty years had never happened. Moving his hand away from the touch Charles would almost certainly recoil from were he wake, Magneto moved around the bed to the small table at the headboard and carefully floated the metal syringe towards himself. If Lorna was right, and he had never had reason to doubt her before, this was a dose of the substance Beast used to revive unconscious X-men. Almost reluctantly, Erik smiled at the thought of how many times Alex must have been treated with it; he could think of at least five times he had rendered the man unconscious by his own hand alone. Without thought, he rolled up Xavier’s right sleeve, gently injected the clear substance and waited for it to take effect. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To his confusion, as the world began to come into focus, it was Erik Lehnsherr that Charles found at his bedside. Charles stilled for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to doubt his eyes or not. The man was sat in an old highback that used to belong to his father. He’d pulled the chair over from where it had been set by the window and placed it by Charles’ nightstand, where the German appeared to be lost in the pages of a book. Charles knew it would be ‘The Once and Future King’ without having to look; it was a favourite of both of theirs and a book Erik had returned to again and again during his visits to Westchester. Charles liked the book so much he’d even added it to the school’s English syllabus back in the eighties – it was still part of the required reading even now. 

Without moving, he fully took in the older man’s appearance after years of not seeing him. Erik had not become any less imposing in his old age, but his new unnaturally young appearance had brought back alive a ferocity that Erik had almost seemed to tame in his later years. Now Erik was as striking as he had been on the day they met. All sharp lines and unforgiving features; in direct contrast to the warmth and softness he knew his own appearance radiated. Charles was not naïve enough to think that he still knew the man before him after a long, silent decade but with Erik sat beside him as he was now, Charles could almost remember the desperate young man he had pulled out of the water all those years ago.

‘Hello Charles’ 

Charles jumped at the sudden sound breaking the silence. Erik hadn’t moved, his eyes still transfixed to the page he was on. Charles quickly scrabbled to grasp an emotion, any suitable emotion he should be feeling right now. 

‘What the hell Erik?’ Charles stuttered, true indignation never truly reaching his voice. This was all too surreal. 

Erik placed the book down, turning a page to save his place, as if he would come back to it in a moment. Lowering it onto the nightstand, he leaned towards Charles in his chair.

‘You were unconscious. I used Beast’s serum to bring you round again’

Something about the German’s words brought Charles back to reality. He was in lying in bed, useless, whilst the Brotherhood were loose in his mansion. Reaching out with his mind, Charles’ heart began racing when he found he couldn’t find a single mind. Frantically, he telepathically leaped at Erik, meeting nothing but the nausea-inducing blank space the man’s God-forsaken helmet created. His wheelchair nowhere in sight, Charles stretched his reach wider and wider, finding he couldn’t detect anybody in a 30-mile radius. 

‘I was unconscious because one of your bloody thugs hit me Erik! Where are my students?!’ Charles demanded, panic creeping into his voice.

Infuriatingly, the other man didn’t even move. 

‘The children are safe, Charles. Your X-Men too’

‘Where have you taken them?!’ Charles yelled, making no effort to keep his voice steady.

‘Charles,’ Erik crooned, rising out of the chair to take a step towards the bed, ‘Everybody is in the common room downstairs. Emma’s the reason you can’t hear them; she’s put up a shield. If you’d calm down, you’d be able to feel it.

Whist bristling at Magneto’s condescension, Charles made a concerted effort to steady his thoughts nonetheless. Now Erik mentioned it, he could feel the unpleasant chill of Emma’s shield; far from unbreakable for Charles, but impressive all the same. 

Erik carried on, not waiting for an answer. 

‘Emma, Lorna and Raven are with them. For now, Pyro, Toad and Sabretooth are outside that door’ Erik pointed to the door to the left of the room. 

‘Making sure the notorious Magneto doesn’t get hurt’ Charles mocked, both angry and frustrated at the situation he’d found himself in. 

Erik barked out a laugh, taking Charles by surprise. 

‘Something like that, yes’ he conceded. 

Without waiting for permission, Charles broke through Emma’s mental defences. He heard her cry out in surprise, and then pain, as Charles tore down her shield. She might be an omega telepath herself, but Charles was the most powerful telepath in the world – she was outclassed in every way. 

‘Play nice Charles’ Erik teased, seemingly aware of what he was doing, and settled himself back into his chair.

Charles ignored him whilst he did an inventory of everybody in the common room. Erik was right, everybody was present and correct. Charles brushed over the familiar minds of Hank, Scott, Alex and Rogue, and felt a warm surge of reassurance from Jean. Frowning, Charles realised the minds he had touched, which had been everyone’s, were all calm. Nobody was panicking and trying to escape, and so far as he could tell, nobody had been physically hurt. There was an undercurrent of fear to the room which suggested Emma wasn’t simply projecting an aura of peace for him to pick up on. Charles didn’t blame them; for most of the students, the mutant equivalent of the bogeyman had just walked through their front door. 

Charles searched the common room for the mind he was least accustomed to; that of a particularly striking green-haired mutant. Just as her found her standing next to Frost, Erik cleared his throat. 

‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go routing about in Lorna’s mind, Charles’

Charles turned to face Erik, the anger bubbling up side him; how dare he suppose to ask Charles to be polite? After he and this Lorna had broken into his home?

‘Charles please’ Erik continued, voice softening ‘she has her father’s distrust of telepaths. Besides, I’m more than happy to tell you whatever you want to know’

‘Take your helmet off and I’ll get the information I want from you then’ Charles replied, stony faced.

‘We both know that’s not going to happen, old friend’

For a horrible moment, they were at a stalemate. Charles unwilling to take information by force, even now, and Erik as unmoveable as always.

Charles let his shoulders fall. 

‘Who is she Erik?’ he sighed.

‘Lorna’s my daughter, Charles’ Erik explained. ‘I found out about her before her powers had even manifested; she’s been with me at Genosha since then’. 

Charles approximated Lorna’s age with a bleary head. Mutant abilities typically manifest at puberty. That means Erik had known about Lorna for, give or take, twenty years. He had never told Charles. 

‘Does she live with you?’ 

‘Of course. Lorna’s been with me since she arrived and has been serving at a royal capacity since she was 16. She largely acts as a diplomat between Genosha and neighbouring countries. You know diplomacy has never been my strong point’ he added with a wry smile. 

The self-depreciation fell on deaf ears. A diplomat since she was sixteen. A princess for all intents and purposes. The entire population of Genosha had known about Erik’s daughter. Charles could almost feel Emma laughing at him from the lower floor. 

‘I’ve never heard of any diplomat from Genosha’ Charles replied, turning away into the darkness of the room, ‘I thought you handled all of that’. Charles desperately hoped that the other man couldn’t see his expression. 

Rising from his chair and towards the window, his ostentatious cape sweeping behind him, Magneto carried on. 

‘I’m very good at waging wars Charles, as you well know, but foreign relations can elude me. Lorna’s brilliant at it; she has your charm’. 

Erik continued before Charles could point out what a ridiculous comment that was.

‘Unfortunately, her charm can’t hold off every jackal that comes to our shores. Lorna has had several attempts made against her life; many before she had even made it into my care. Whereas my infamy helps keep the general population safe, sadly that’s not the case for those closest to me’, Erik turned around to face him, ‘It’s not just me who’s taken a great risk in coming here Charles’. 

Charles took a moment to let this new information sink in. Despite what she’d kept from him, Lorna was a fellow mutant and the thought of anyone being threatened simply because of who they were had never sat well with Charles. As far as he could tell, she didn’t have her father’s propensity for murder – he’d have heard of her before now if she had. Charles felt himself softening to the idea of her despite himself. 

‘And why are you here Erik?’ Charles questioned, turning to face him once again. Charles saw the other man take a deep breath. 

‘There’s going to be an attack Charles’

For an awful moment, Charles thought Erik was threatening him. Instead, the other man’s face was etched with undeniable apprehension.

‘Where? What sort of attack?’

Erik moved towards Charles. Charles made a conscious effort not to mirror his movement.

‘Mephisto is coordinating an attack on earth. No one and nowhere will be spared Charles. We have to act now’

Charles recognised the name. Mephisto was a demon and was responsible for the death of not only Victor Von Doom’s mother, but also the creation of Ghost Rider. Feeding on the evils of the human world, Mephisto also had the ability to steal souls. If Charles was correct, he was also immortal. 

‘How do you know this Erik?

‘He attacked Genosha. Him and his demons came for us without any warning, Charles. Our fighters managed to hold them off but not quick enough. Hundreds of us died’ 

Charles saw the pain in Erik’s eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. There were some things you didn’t need telepathy for. 

‘I’m so sorry Erik,’ Charles soothed, finding that he meant it, ‘And you think he’s going to attack again?’

‘I know he’s going to attack again’ Erik replied firmly, ‘As soon as our armies fought him off, we came to Magik. She confirmed what we already suspected – Mephisto is leading an invasion. By feeding off the souls here on earth, he would be almost unstoppable’

Charles faltered at Erik’s mention of Illyana. 

‘You met with Magik?’

‘Azazel spoke with her. She’s in Genosha as we speak, planning our response’

Charles’ blood turned cold.

‘But Illyana hasn’t left the mansion’ he said, his words sounding hollow even to him. He knew the answer already.

‘Raven has been here in her place’ Erik explained, voice defiant, daring Charles to question his methods. 

Charles took the bait.

‘HOW DARE YOU?!’ he shouted at the other man. ‘It is one thing Erik to sneak your daughter in here, to use her to break you and your thugs into my house, but it is another thing entirely to use my own sister against me! She’s been here for what, weeks? Spying on me, on my students, finding out God knows what!’. Charles took a shuddering breath.

Erik only moved further away from him. Charles’ wanted to scream at his own inability to follow Magneto, to stop him from walking away from what he had done. 

‘Raven was not spying on you Charles, I had Emma and Lorna for that. Besides, Raven hasn’t been your sister for many years now’

Charles launched himself at Erik, not caring how ridiculous he surely looked. Erik only put a hand on the other man’s arm to stop him from falling, before moving away again. Charles growled in frustration.

‘Charles, you have to calm down. Raven was here to fill Magik’s place, that is all. I know you wouldn’t have allowed me to return here’

‘You’re bloody right about that’ Charles sneered.

‘So we carried on with the plan to explain things to you in an admittedly…unorthodox way’

‘By breaking into my house and knocking me unconscious you mean’

Erik turned back to face Charles, his expression colder than it had been previously. 

‘My patience is not finite Charles. Hundreds of my people have died. You may have your school; I have a country to rule and that country, as well as your own and every other one after that, is under threat. I did what I had to, so that I could get here to speak to you. You will help me Charles. I’ve risked too much in coming here for you not to’

Erik’s voice brokered no argument and Charles bristled at the arrogance in his tone.

‘And what the hell do you want from me Erik? You’re the sodding ruler of Genosha and I, like you say, am the headteacher of a school. If there’s to be an attack, I’m certain the great Magneto will be able to take care of it. You handle your affairs Erik, I’ll be sure to do the same here’

The German’s face remained stern, but his clipped accent became softer. 

‘I need you to convince others to let the Brotherhood help, Charles. This battle is bigger than any of us can imagine and you are going to need all the help you can get. Me and my people can give you that help. Emma, Lorna and I are all omega level mutants, you can’t deny that you don’t need us’

‘I don’t even know if what you’re saying is true, Erik’ Charles retorted, although something in his gut told him that it was, ‘and who are these others you want me to convince? My X-Men have grown up listening to horror stories about you, old friend. A few words from me won’t change that’

‘I’m not talking about your students Charles, ‘Erik explained, stepping towards the Brit once again, ‘I need you to convince the Avengers. Mutants alone will not be able to fight Mephisto and his hordes’

A deathly silence filled the room. 

‘The Avengers’ Charles intoned. 

Erik’s expression gave nothing away, no indication as to whether he was serious or not.

‘Yes’ he replied calmly.

‘The Avengers’

Erik didn’t respond this time.

‘You want me, a Professor of a school, to convince the world’s leading elite defensive force – the same people who have sworn to kill you should you ever leave Genosha, I might add – to allow a wanted mass-murderer to help the world fight an oncoming demon invasion’ Charles deadpanned. 

‘You’re being ever so slightly dramatic,’ Erik smirked, ‘but that just about sums it up, yes’. 

‘Why shouldn’t I just tell them that you’re here right now?' Charles questioned. ‘Why shouldn’t I let them know what you’ve done here today and let them have their way with you?’ Charles forced his dry throat to swallow, knowing that this is exactly what he should do.

Erik moved closer again, the darkness of the room casting his face in shadow. Charles could just make out the penetrating gaze of his eyes.

‘You could Charles,’ Erik breathed, ‘you could tell them that that I’m here, right now, and they would take me away and they would kill me. You have that power Charles. You always have had that power. I would never be a problem for you again, and you could carry on building your dream of a better tomorrow, without me ever getting in your way. They would take Raven, Emma and Lorna too – three more problems of yours, gone forever. I was hoping though Charles, that you’d allow me to stay - if only for a little while. Let me show you what is coming, let me help you prepare. I can understand if you can’t help my cause in New York; so many risks have been taken already. But I was hoping that this,’ Erik indicated the space between them,’ this thing of ours would mean something to you Charles. That you would help me help our people’. Erik stopped, somehow now only inches away from Charles’ face.

Fuck, Charles thought, and knew that he had already lost.

Reaching for his bedsheets like a little boy lost, an errant thought crept into Charles’ mind.

‘There were never any soldiers attacking us, were there Erik?’ Charles asked, ignoring both what the older man had just said and how close to touching they both now were.

Erik slowly smiled, knowing that Charles' avoidance meant that he had won, for now. 

‘All just a figment of your imagination’ he replied smoothly, moving away from Charles almost reluctantly. Magneto stood slowly and began making his way towards the bedroom door. Charles was alarmed to find that he didn’t want him to leave. 

‘You have your tricks Charles, Emma has hers’

The warm feeling that had been growing inside Charles was quickly doused at the mention of the other telepath in Erik’s life. The door closed behind Erik before Charles had chance to think of a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took far longer to write than what I imagined! Life got in the way - crying babies, work projects, piles of ironing (hey, I live an exciting life :P) - but here it is, finally. I start to go someway to explaining why Charles and Erik are young and pretty, and oh yeah, I guess this is an Avengers crossover now?!


	4. The Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Charles meet Polaris for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this a few times, but finally decided on a Lorna/ Charles POV split. It didn't feel right to relegate Lorna to a supporting role, considering her part in all this.

The tension left the room, as if often did, when Magneto left the room. Whilst none of the mutants in the common room liked Mystique or The White Queen, it was still Magneto that instilled the most fear. Lorna considered the enormity of the task ahead of them. The first step was for her dad to convince Professor X of Mephisto’s plans and to allow them to help. The outside world still saw her people as the Brotherhood rather than Genoshans; Lorna was sympathetic as to why that was the case, but she had been working her whole life to change that. She didn’t know the exact relationship between her dad and the Professor, but Magneto knew him well and she was confident he’d be able to convince the Brit.

During her weeks at the mansion, Lorna had found the Professor to be warm and charming, as Magneto had told her he would be. Despite faking only a very limited control of the temperature, Xavier had never been dismissive and had in fact encouraged her to push herself and exact full control of what she could do. Outside of the classroom, the Professor was cheerful and quick to laugh. He seemed to find genuine pleasure in the company of his students and invited a familiarity with them her father would never dream of. Lorna felt genuine concern for the professor and hoped that Sabertooth hadn’t been too hard on him – he would regret it if he had. Perhaps after everything had settled down, Xavier would be able to understand that Lorna was just acting in the best interests of mutants and humans alike.

Standing in front of the amassed students now though, without her uniform in sight, Lorna could not feel more detached from her royal persona. Here, she had simply been Lorna Dane and been liked by others not for who she was or who her father was, but rather for just being herself. She couldn’t help but feel silly standing next to Mystique and Emma in their full regalia in nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt. Whereas her former friends were doing everything they could to avoid the other Genoshans, they had no qualms about throwing Lorna hateful looks and talking about her to each other _. You are a goddamn princess,_ Lorna told herself, _you do not care what a group of students think about you._

One person’s opinion she really did care about though, was that of Alex Summers. Despite her dad warning her away from forming any personal connections, Lorna couldn’t help but be drawn to Alex. He was strong, loyal and not afraid to fight for what he believed in. He was also hot-headed and powerful; but Lorna had never been intimidated by any of these things. There were some advantages to being the daughter of Magneto. Alex was standing to side of the room, simultaneously glowering at her whilst talking to Hank. Lorna did her best not to be hurt by his reaction, she had been expecting this. After informing Emma of what she was doing, Lorna gestured for Alex to follow her and left the room.

Waiting in the corridor outside, it was several minutes before Alex followed. In spite of what she had seen only minutes before, Lorna was taken aback by the waves of hatred pouring off him. You didn’t have to be a telepath to see just how angry Alex was. His hands shook in barely suppressed rage, whilst his eyes refused to meet hers. Feeling wholly unprepared for this level of reaction, Lorna really wished she was wearing her royal outfit.

‘Who the _fuck_ are you?’ Alex spat out, still not looking at her.

‘It’s still me Alex, I’m still Lorna. Nothing you’ve seen today changes that’ she replied, keeping her voice as neutral as possible.

‘Tell me who the fuck you are,’ Alex snarled ‘tell me why I’ve just seen my girlfriend stand side-by-side with Magneto and not look in the least bit phased by it’.

‘Because he’s my father Alex’ Lorna answered, opting for a straight-forward approach.

Alex’s head whipped round to look at her.

‘What?!’

‘Magneto is my father – I live with him in Genosha… I’m part of the royal court. Please Alex, I need you to understand that whilst he may be my dad, I do NOT agree with what he does and what he has done before. There is a reason why we’re here Alex, a damn good reason. Mephisto…’

‘What’s your name?’ the blonde interrupted, ignoring all that Lorna had just said.

‘What?’

‘I said, what’s your name?’ Alex sneered, moving closer towards her. ‘Magneto names all his lackies these days – The White Queen, Pyro, Sabertooth, Toad, Psylocke, Wolverine, Monet. What I want to know is, what did the bastard name you?’

Lorna did her best to stay calm but couldn’t keep the steel for creeping into her tone.

‘My name is Lorna Dane. My mutant name is Polaris, although I have also been known as Pestilence, Malice and Magnetrix. I am the Mistress of Magnetism, Princess of Genosha and the heir to the House of M throne’.

Alex levelled a look at Lorna that made her heart ache. It was so full of disgust and contempt that in that moment, she knew there would never be an Alex-and-Lorna as there had before.

‘Mistress of Magnetism? You’re just like him, aren’t you?’ Alex’s voice was full of nothing but contempt.

Lorna frantically thought of a way to make Alex understand. Magneto was a monster, yes, but he was also the same person who had helped her with her maths homework and had dried her tears after her first break-up. She couldn’t have one without the other.

‘Alex please, I’m nothing like him’

‘So, who are you like then? Are you more like Mystique, or maybe you’re more like Emma?’

‘I’m not like any of them. You know me…you know I’m not’

‘I know nothing about you! Tell me Polaris, have you ever killed somebody?’

The question stopped Lorna in her tracks. Unbidden, the names of her victims repeated in her mind. Maria, Andrew, Rhian, David, Jose, Thomas, Matthew and Alexus. Eight lives she had taken before her father realised the toll it was taking on her. Magneto had moved her from the position of executioner to diplomat, where she had flourished ever since. She would never forget their faces or the terror they felt in their final few moments.

‘Alex..’ Lorna pleaded.

‘I thought so,’ he sneered, ‘You disgust me, don’t ever come near me again’

Alex gave her one last hateful look before returning to the common room. Lorna stood in the hallway and felt the world she knew sway on its axis. Alex had come to mean so much to her in such a short space of time; his revulsion left a gnawing hole in her chest. Standing in the empty hallway, holding back tears, Lorna didn’t feel like the heir to a throne bur rather a little girl whose heart had been smashed into pieces.

Another presence shook her from her reverie. Barely perceptible, Lorna could feel another mind in her own.

 

 

As Erik left his bedroom, it was as if the spell Charles’ had been under suddenly broke. He suddenly became aware that he was half naked in his bed, the syringe used to wake him up still lying on his bedside table, whilst a group of the Government’s top-wanted terrorists were making themselves at home in his school. Casting his telepathy out once more, he was somewhat reassured to find the students seemingly unharmed. They were scared and confused, but it didn’t seem as if they were in any immediate danger. More cautiously this time, Charles reached out for the minds of the intruders. Pyro was in the hallway outside his room; not quite keeping sentry but certainly keeping an eye on Charles’ next move. Raven had joined Sabertooth and Toad outside on the mansion’s front lawn; Charles was careful his sister didn’t detect even the slightest hint of his presence in her mind; it would not be well-received. Magneto had made his way to Charles’ office – only the crude absence of anything indicated where he was-  and Frost had met with him in there.

Charles almost recoiled as he cautiously felt out for Lorna’s mind. With Frost’s shield now gone, Lorna’s mind was astonishingly similar to her father’s. His chest tightened as he cautiously brushed over a mind so like the one he had encountered all those years ago. Lorna’s mind was a well-oiled machine; regimented, efficient and hard as steel. To Charles her psyche glistened; he could almost hear the thrum of power that lay waiting underneath. However, Erik’s power was fuelled by rage and always had been. There was a time when Charles had convinced himself that Magneto had found a way to harness his powers in that elusive space between rage and serenity. Time had revealed that to be nothing more than a self-indulgent fantasy. Lorna’s mind was far from peaceful but was powered by a solemn bitterness rather than any true hatred. From what Charles now knew of her, Lorna had much to be resentful of.

‘I’m sure Dad would have asked you to knock before coming in Professor’

Charles gasped out loud. He had been so careful not to alert anyone to his presence, how had Lorna known he was here? Lorna’s mental voice was crisp and clear, her inner voice matching her spoken one perfectly. She spoke at just the right level so as to be heard without shouting; Lorna was used to speaking telepathically.

‘Aren’t you going to say hello?’

Charles could even hear the smile in her voice.

‘Apologies my dear, though I must confess my manners do tend to slide when I find out I’ve been deceived, and my home broken into’ Charles replied firmly, pushing his surprise to one side.

‘Completely understandable Professor’ Lorna answered without missing a beat, ‘Can I help you with anything?’

The sincerity of her question caught Charles off guard.

‘Help me with anything?’

‘I’m bringing one of your chairs to you now, so that you can join us – is there anything else you need?’

Charles watched incredulously as the lock to his room clicked open (he hadn’t realised it had been locked), the doors smoothly moved apart, and his favourite wheelchair floated flawlessly towards him before lowering itself down gently at his left side.

‘You’ve been keeping your talents well-hidden Lorna; that must have taken considerable control’

Lorna responded with a simple ‘thank you’

Charles navigated his way onto the chair, before moving to retrieve a shirt from the wardrobe. He reminded himself that whereas he could slip into Lorna’s mind to see what she was doing, she could not do the same back. He kept their mental link open, strangely unwilling to be the one to end the conversation. Lorna didn’t object.

‘You have the same abilities as Magne…your fath….Erik then?’ Charles faltered for the right terminology.

‘Dad and I have the same skill set, yes’ Lorna smiled once more. Charles ignored the feeling that crept its way into him at the way Lorna said ‘Dad’ so easily.

‘You can create portals though? And unless I’ve been tricked about this as well -you really were manipulating the temperature these past few weeks you’ve been here’

‘As I said, Dad and I have the same skill set’

‘Magneto cannot create portals Lorna’

‘Magneto was the one who taught me how to make them Professor’ she replied smoothly.

Charles decided not to push the issue any further; if Lorna was half as stubborn as Erik was, Charles knew he wouldn’t get any further. Bottling up his frustration, he made his way into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, he noted how pale and shaken he appeared whilst remaining thankful that Sabretooth hadn’t left any noticeable bruises, but rather a tender spot at the back of his skull. Charles didn’t like looking in the mirror since he had been de-aged and tried to avoid doing so as much as possible. His unnatural youth disgusted him, despite making light of it to the others. He still felt every one of his 83 years; his outward appearance now seemed to make a mockery of everything he had achieved in his lifetime. Decades had passed, great strides had been made, wars had been fought and still, nothing had changed, not really. Here he was, ever the young, naïve optimist he always had been. What was worse, some of his oldest students were now biologically older than him. Hank had informed him that Sway’s de-aging power affected not just his appearance, but also his biology too. For all intents and purposes, Charles Xavier was a 35-year-old man. The thought of reliving the latter half of his life exhausted Charles. The threat that Erik would force Sway to do the same thing again forty years from now didn’t even bear thinking about.

‘Lorna, what has your father told you about me?’ Charles sent out telepathically.

This time, the younger Lehnsherr hesitated. Charles restrained himself from grabbing the answer for himself.

‘That you’re a dangerous man’ Lorna eventually replied, her tone both calm and cautious.

Of course he bloody did, thought Charles.


	5. To Me, My X-Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and the team decide what to do next.

Charles took stock of the situation. The first thing he needed to do was to let his students know what was happening. The last thing he needed was a well-meaning X-Man shooting a laser beam at a member of the Brotherhood. Secondly, he needed to set Erik and his team up in a part of the building as far away from the children as possible. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, he needed to look up the number of a good therapist who might be able to tell him why the bloody hell he’d agreed to this madness in the first place. He knew that what Erik had told him was true. Charles had searched the minds of all the intruders (bar Raven’s) and what he had seen had turned his stomach. Mephisto’s attack on Genosha had been ruthless, his hordes of demons had shown no mercy and had cut down everything and everyone in their path. The Genoshan army had responded quickly, but nowhere near quickly enough. Hundreds had been slaughtered – men, women and children. Charles’ heart ached for them.

Brooding in his room would do no good, he needed to face the situation downstairs. He’d done his best to fix himself up in the hope that his students wouldn’t realise just how precarious a situation they were in. He needed to appear confident and, if possible, in control. Charles could feel the fear radiating from some of the younger children – he wouldn’t allow himself to add to their distress. Taking a steadying breath, he pressed the button that would take him to the ground floor. Ramps and lifts had been installed in the mansion back in the seventies when Charles had finally traded in his ability to walk for his telepathy. It was Erik who had forced that decision upon him then too.

As the lift doors opened, Charles was surprised to see students freely walking around. They were subdued and obviously on edge, but they appeared to be able to come and go as they pleased. He felt out the empty space created by Erik’s helmet and began directing students back into the common room – the furthest point away from the master of magnetism. Shooting a sharp command at Emma for the Brotherhood to keep their distance, Charles telepathically asked his X-men to join him in the library. He then simultaneously began wheeling himself to meet them, whilst doing what he could to reassure the young mutants he encountered.

It wasn’t long before the X-Men met with him in the library; even the usually tardy Rogue showed up in record time. Charles looked around at his assembled team. There were far more active X-Men than the six mutants around him of course, but Charles always thought of these as his 'original' team. It was an odd sentiment considering only Hank and Alex were there at the start of all this madness and the latter hardly took part in active missions anymore, being more comfortable letting his younger (and more level-headed) brother head the team. All of them looked confused about the recent turn of events, alternatingly frowns and looks of concern meeting his gaze. All except for Alex, who looked absolutely furious which, Charles supposed, he had every right to be. 

‘Did you know about her?’ Alex demanded, before Charles could begin.

Charles sighed, Lorna’s deceit had only added to Alex’s innate distrust of others.

‘About Lorna? No Alex, I can assure you I did not. Believe me when I say that her parentage is as horrifying to me as it surely is to you’

Alex appeared to weigh Charles answer, before giving a small nod – seemingly satisfied with Charles’ answer.

‘Has anyone been hurt?’ Charles questioned, all too aware that he had been unconscious whilst the Brotherhood had been making their introductions.

‘Sabertooth gave me, slim and Jeannie a mean right hook before tossing us in with the rest, but we’ve all had worse’ Rogue shrugged.

‘Frost attacked the rest of us’ Hank said solemnly.

 _‘What?!’_ Charles’ gaped.

‘Magneto was given his spiel about coming to us for help, Alex piped up with some ‘we’ll never help you’ nonsense and then Frost decided to show us the importance of co-operation’

‘ _Excuse me_?’ Alex said disbelieving, ‘What was I supposed to do? Just lie down and take his crap, like you did Hank?’

‘Self-preservation has never been your strong suit has it Alex?’

‘Hank, Alex, please. We cannot afford to argue amongst ourselves right now. What did Emma do?’ Charles implored.

‘Standard telepathic attack,’ Hank informed him ‘She made us experience pain -  it was really quite debilitating.’

‘The children?’ Charles enquired, not wanting to know the answer.

‘I’m afraid everyone experienced it Professor. We may all be walking around the mansion, but no-one is under the illusion that we are free to leave’.

Charles suppressed a rage he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.

'Why does Magneto need our help?' Scott queried in his no-nonsense manner, moving Charles away from his anger. Charles thanked his lucky stars for Scott Summers, who had decided to focus on the bigger picture, rather than asking why the hell Charles was allowing the world’s most wanted criminals to make themselves comfortable in their home.

'Have you heard of Mephisto?' 

'The demon?' Hank replied. 

'Him exactly. He's planning a full-scale attack, if what I’ve been told is true. He's already attacked Genosha; that’s why the Brotherhood are here’

‘Planning an attack on where Professor?’ Ororo spoke for the first time.

‘Everywhere Storm. There’s not a country that won’t be hit’

‘By leaving his dimension, he will be able to feed on the souls and wrong-doing of everybody here on earth. That’s what gives him his strength. He’ll be practically unstoppable’ Hank explained.

‘It does appear that we have quite the situation on our hands, X-Men’ Charles confessed.

‘A situation it may be Professor, but I sure aint happy about ol’ Mister Magnet being able to walk around the school like he owns the place’ Rogue drawled.

Once again, Charles couldn’t help but smile at Rogue’s way with words. She’d been with them so long it was easy to forget Rogue had once been part of Magento’s Royal Protection. Rumour had it that she was the only mutant to defect from Genosha and survive; Charles liked to think that her decision to come straight to the X-Mansion had a part to play in that.

‘Is that what they call him in Genosha?’

‘Absolutely not’, Rogue laughed, ‘it was only ever ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘King Magnus’. Anyone who dared called him anything else was never heard from again.’

So much for being a benevolent leader, thought Charles. He never had figured out why Erik had chosen the name ‘Magnus’ to rule with. Charles added it to the list of seemingly endless questions he had to fire at the man. But how on earth did he go about explaining his decision to let Erik stay? He doubted Hank or Alex needed an explanation, but for the rest of the group Magneto had been trying to kill them most of their adult lives. There had been a short respite in the early eighties when Erik had actually helped them defeat Apocalypse (only after helping him rise to power though, mind you) and had even gone so far as to help Charles rebuild the mansion. The truce had been short lived however, and in 1988 Magneto had very almost killed both Scott and Ororo.

Charles decided to stick to safe territory.

‘I know you don’t want the Brotherhood here…I don’t want them here anymore than you do’. That was technically true, at least. ‘But if Mephisto really is going to attack…’

‘He is’ Jean interrupted.

The group turned to look at her. She immediately looked sheepish.

‘Well, the Brotherhood believe he is, at least. As soon as you told us what about Genosha being attacked, I read the minds of the group downstairs. Magik is in Genosha helping them to prepare; both she and the Brotherhood are certain an attack is coming’.

‘You read their minds without permission? You know that’s against the rules, love’ Charles chided, knowing full well what a hypocrite he was, having done the exact same thing himself.

‘This is the Brotherhood Professor, we can’t afford to take any risks’

It occurred to Charles that it wasn’t just his own methods that had become less scrupulous over the years – his own students had no qualms about breaking the rules where Magneto was concerned.

‘Quite right, Jean’ he admitted.

‘Why is he here though? After everything, how the _hell_ is that man back in our school? There are plenty of other people we can ask for help’ Alex glowered at Charles.

‘And we will ask them for that help, Alex. However, we can’t deny the fact that Erik’s forces are considerable. Of the seven of them here, three of them are Omega level mutants. They could be the difference between whether we win or lose this fight’

‘We have Omega-level mutants here Professor’ Hank replied, ‘and _you_ can’t deny that Magneto is far from being trustworthy.’

‘No, he’s not…but I am’ Charles countered, ‘and I promise to you all, that I get even the faintest whiff that he’s up to something, him and the rest of the Brotherhood will be out of here in an instant’.

The group passed meaningful looks between themselves, none of them quite willing to address the elephant in the room. Why was the Professor willing to give Magneto chance after chance?

‘And what if somebody finds out he’s here?’ Scott said, breaking the silence.

This was the crux of it. Charles was asking not just his friends, but his entire student body to lie for him. Although uncomfortable with asking anyone to take such a risk on his behalf, Charles couldn’t see any other option; not without exposing Erik to the forces that would have him killed on sight. He both liked and respected S.H.I.E.L.D and the Avengers, they were immense forces for good in the world. Despite this, he would not let them capture Erik.  As much as he hated the man, he couldn’t allow that to happen.

‘If anybody finds out he’s here, I should imagine I’ll be in a lot of trouble’.

‘We’ll _all_ be in a lot of trouble’ Alex retorted.

Charles took a deep breath. ‘Yes Alex, we’ll all be in a lot of trouble’. There was no point in denying it.

The library was silent once more as everybody took on board what Charles was asking them to do. The real question was, how much were they willing to risk on his word alone?

Scott, as he was so often did, spoke for the group.

‘I can’t say anybody is happy about this Professor, but we trust you and if you really think this is what’s for the best, we’ll do it’.

‘I do Scott, I really do’ Charles breathed, thanking any God that would listen for his brilliant, trusting friends.

‘Okay’ Scott replied, ‘I suggest we pick this up again in the morning. I’m guessing everyone’s got a lot to think about tonight’.

‘An excellent suggestion indeed’ Charles agreed, ushering the X-Men out of the door.

 


	6. Three's A Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have shamelessly stolen dialogue from both the movies and the comics in this piece - the line Charles says to Emma on entering the room was originally said by Kitty Pryde to Emma in the comics. I loved it so much I had to put it in. The second piece - where Charles' 'threatens' Erik is taken from the very first X-Men film, but originally it's the Professor saying it to Wolverine. I just reworded a tiny bit to make it a more believable dialogue for Erik. 
> 
> Also - thank you to everyone who is commenting and giving this Kudos, it really does mean the world.

Without wanting to, Charles entered his study. He didn’t knock; it was insult enough that Erik had chosen this room to settle in, he’d be damned if he was going to ask for permission to enter. Opening the large oak door, Charles found Erik and The White Queen sat on opposite sides of the room, in deep conversation. Their distance took Charles by surprise; when he had seen them on the news, the King & Queen of Genosha were always glued to each other’s side. Frost always moved in perfect harmony with Magneto, anticipating his every move before it was made; she seemed not to need her telepathy to know Erik’s next move – Charles envied her that. The pair turned as one to look at him as they heard the door open, Erik’s expression as unreadable as ever, whereas a wide grin spread across the blonde’s face.

‘Charles, darling, what took you so long? You _have_ kept us all waiting’ she teased.

‘Sorry Emma, I was busy remembering to put on all of my clothes’ Charles retorted without missing a beat.

The German let out a sharp laugh whilst Frost scowled at Charles.

‘I see a blow to the head has done nothing to dampen your wit Charles. Let’s hope you’re still laughing at the end of all of this’

‘Is that a threat?’ Charles demanded.

‘Charles, Emma, please - as impressive as a fight between the both of you would be, we have more important things to attend to’ Erik intervened, standing from his chair.

Emma followed suit and made her way to Erik’s side. Charles really did wonder how she didn’t get hypothermia wearing those clothes – it was sodding February, for God’s sake.  

‘Quite right darling’ she soothed ‘we are here to help Charles now, aren’t we?’

‘Help?!’ Charles said incredulously? ‘How can anything you’ve done so far be classified as help? You’ve broken into my home, traumatised my students – not to mention making me believe we were under bloody attack in the first place!’

‘You’ve not been broken into, you’ve been rescued’ Frost sneered ‘The students felt nothing more than a tickle Charles and it kept them from blowing each other up in an attempt to recuse _you._ Don’t bite the hand that feeds you darling, we’re the only bit of good news you’re going to get in this adventure’

Charles found himself lost for words at Emma’s arrogance. How could Erik tolerate the woman? Thirty seconds in her company and Charles was reconsidering every pacifist belief he had ever held.

‘Emma! You forget your place,’ Magneto reprimanded, ‘Leave the Professor and I to talk alone; I suggest you take the time to cool off’

Erik’s tone unsettled Charles; the older man spoke to Emma the way you would speak to an insubordinate, rather than a lover. More alarmingly, The White Queen didn’t look surprised or even unhappy with the way Erik spoke to her. Maybe this was how they worked? Charles suppressed a shudder - the last thing he needed to be thinking of right now was the inner workings of Erik’s sex life.

‘I bow to the master of diplomacy’ Emma said, nodding her head to Erik before leaving the room, her white thigh-high boots clicking all the way.

‘I’m sorry about her,’ Erik began, ‘Emma’s become unused to being…challenged’ he said, picking his words carefully.

‘Yes, I can imagine being a tyrant does have its drawbacks’ Charles snarked.

‘Bickering isn’t going to get us anywhere Charles. We have to be able to work together’

‘How Erik? How on earth are we supposed to work together after all that’s happened? Everyone in this building, me included, distrusts you. You’re the mutant equivalent of the bogeyman and now you’re asking for our help’

‘The bogeyman Charles, really?’

‘There is not a student here that hasn’t been affected by you in some way or another. You’ve almost killed the X-Men so many times I have _honestly_ lost count, others have had family members hurt by the Brotherhood – after New York, not one of them can pursue a relationship with anyone but another mutant!’ Charles exclaimed.

‘That wasn’t my doing, Charles. The humans enforced that’ the older man replied patronisingly.

‘Because you killed hundreds of them! You and your _fighters_ ,’ Charles spat the word out, ‘causing nothing but bloodshed wherever you go. Because of you, no mutant can date a human, inhuman, Asgardian or any other bloody species! Do you even understand what that will do to the mutant population Erik? Does the concept of inbreeding mean anything to you?’

‘Our population is too large for that to be a concern’

‘Are you really so sure of that?’ Charles demanded.

‘Charles, what’s done is done. I can’t change what has already happened, not any more than you can. All we can do is face what’s coming _now_. I’m not asking you to help us, old friend. I’m asking that you allow us to help each other’

The Erik in front of him was so far away from the one he had known, it both hurt and captivated Charles in equal measure. Old-Erik would not have been able to go so long without raising his voice, his ability to debate had always been tempered by his inability to control his anger. This Erik didn’t look troubled by anything Charles had said so far. Was the man in front of him less quick to anger; perhaps even more tolerant than the man Charles knew? Or was Charles seeing the reaction of a dictator who did what he wanted, regardless of others around him? Experience told him which idea to believe.

‘And how are you going to help us?’ Charles challenged.

Erik moved closer to Charles, closing the distance between them. Charles could see his own reflection in Magneto’s helmet.

‘We’re fighters Charles, you said as much yourself. We have one of the world’s most formidable armies - and it’s not just because of our powers’, Erik interjected, before Charles could say anything, ‘We train relentlessly, we carry out combat exercises and scenarios on a daily basis; our teachers are the best in the world. My nation was built from the ashes of warfare, old friend – we excel in it. Let us teach you, let us teach your students. If they’ll let us, we’ll even train the humans too’

‘How magnanimous of you’ Charles deadpanned.

‘If Mephisto wins Charles, there won’t be any mutants; there won’t be any humans or inhumans or any other species you’ve decided to pander to. If we don’t have every pair of hands fighting the same fight, it will be the last war any of us ever see’

Erik’s eyes now burned with self-righteousness, and his once indifferent expression was now alive with the belief of his own words. Whether Charles had made the right decision or not, it was clear to see that Erik was absolutely convinced of his own part in all of this.

‘We train here too, Erik. Every student is encouraged to master their own mutation, as well as taking part in scenarios in the danger room – the danger room you helped us to rebuild, remember? My X-Men are a force for good in this world, they’re respected the world over. They don’t have to rely on fear to control people – they fight to protect others, not to conquer them’.

‘And that is why we need your help too’ Erik appeased ‘We can learn from each other. Please Charles, allow us to do that’.

Charles pinched the bridge of this nose and let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t deny the appeal of working alongside Erik again. Not Magneto, not the monster who bore that mantel, but Erik, the man he had known all those years ago, the man he had been allowed glimpses of time and time again over the years.

‘It could be good Charles’ Erik implored, seeming to read Charles’ thoughts, ‘It could be like the first time – the first class all over again. We _did_ start the X-Men together’ he smiled.

‘If you repeat that to anyone outside of this room, you’ll spend the rest of your days under the belief that you are a six-year old girl’ Charles promised.

The older man laughed.

‘I’m not joking Erik. I’d have Jean braid your hair’

‘My lips are sealed’ he smirked. If Charles didn’t know any better, he could have sworn the look on Erik’s face was one of affection.

‘You and the monsters who call you their leader can stay in the East Wing’ Charles instructed, breaking the moment. ‘You can use the mansion’s facilities - kitchen, bathrooms and the like, but for now, you keep to yourselves’

‘Don’t want me near the students, Charles?’ Erik teased.

‘Being as last time you were here you radicalised no less than five of my student body, no, I don’t want you anywhere near them’ he confessed.

Magneto simply smiled at Charles. He placed his hand on the professor’s shoulder as he moved passed him to leave; Charles ignored the jolt he felt at the simple touch.

‘It’s good to be back, old friend’

That night, in the confines of his room, Charles Xavier got very, _very_ drunk.


	7. Curiosity Kills The Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles past catches up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things; firstly I know NOTHING about American geography so when I was looking on a map for somewhere Charles and Erik could feasibly have visited, I was instantly drawn to the name Bryn Mawr as it's from my native language (it means big hill btw). Sincere apologies if anybody knows the place or knows it wouldn't work, you'll just have to forgive my ignorance. 
> 
> Secondly - the speech beginning 'The first time I met Erik...' is ripped straight from the comics. I'ts canon y'all. As always, I've altered it a teeny bit to fit with the story but other than this, it's plagiarism at its finest!

Weeks passed at the mansion. If Charles wasn’t teaching, he could be found drinking alone in his study, or alternatively, drinking alone in his room. Old habits die hard, and Charles rationalised that he was simply reintroducing himself to an old Xavier pastime. His students had stopped speaking to him, being careful not to make eye contact when Charles asked a question in class or when they passed him in the halls. The X-Men had tried coming to him in the evenings, inviting him down to dinner, but even they now seemed to be keeping their distance after finding Charles’ door well and truly shut.

Miraculously, Erik was keeping true to his word. The Brotherhood could be seen walking about the mansion, and you could find them in the kitchen first thing in the morning, but other than that they had kept their distance. The students had been told that they were helping the X-Men with a secret mission - which was the closest thing to the truth Charles was prepared to tell them at this stage - and told to keep the situation to themselves. So far, everyone appeared to be playing along, with no trace of Magneto’s appearance on American soil appearing on any news or social media outlet. Raven, Sabertooth, Toad and Pyro had all returned to Genosha, with Mystique taking on Erik’s appearance to further hide his real whereabouts. There would have been a time when Charles would have tried to talk to Raven, but this time she had left the mansion without a single word being uttered between the two of them. Things were better this way; Mystique was no more than a puppet for Magneto now – a very lethal puppet, but a puppet nonetheless.

That left Erik, Emma and Lorna. Lorna had been sent into the Eastwing with her father at Charles’ behest; there was no point pretending she was a student anymore, despite the time she’d previously spent at the school. Rumour had reached Charles that Magneto and Polaris were happy to be reunited and that they and Frost could often be seen walking the grounds, laughing amongst themselves. How bloody marvellous for them, Charles brooded.

It was February 21st when Charles’ alcohol-fuelled bubble began to burst. He had just finished his first English lecture of the day and was sitting, head in his hands, at the desk of his study, trying to ignore both the pounding in his head and the cramping in his stomach. He only had another two classes to go, then he had a very nice bottle of Macallan whiskey waiting for him in his room.

A knock at the door sent a lance of pain into Charles’ head. Wincing, he lifted his gaze and reached out to see who it was. Last night’s drink blurred his telepathy, and what should have been a simple task became a mammoth undertaking. Squinting one eye, he tried to focus on the mind directly outside the door. Instead, his mind’s eye kept darting to those others in the hall, struggling to focus, crashing in and out of their minds trying to find his way back to the one waiting outside the door. Charles heard their yelps as he stumbled carelessly in and out of their psyches.

‘Whoissit?’ Charles slurred, admitting defeat.

The door opened, and a young dark-haired woman slipped through the gap. For a moment Charles though it was Moria – before remembering that Moira was now an elderly woman living in the Scottish Highlands. The thought made Charles groan. The young woman ignored his protest and continued to make her way to his desk. Charles closed one eye to focus on her face; brown doe-like eyes, a smattering of freckles across her nose, hair tied back in a simple ponytail. He knew she had phasing abilities, was a computer genius, and a strong member of the team. Wasn’t she dating Colossus? What the _hell_ was her name? Charles promised himself he would stop drinking after 1am.

Charles racked his brain. Sprite? Black cat? Cat…? Charles suddenly noticed the bright purple dragon on her shoulder.

‘Shadowcat!’ he beamed.

‘Good morning Professor. Although you can call me Kitty -  I haven’t gone by Shadowcat for some time now.’ The young woman smiled.

Of course, Kitty Pryde, Charles quietly admonished himself.

‘Professor, one of the students has found something. Something I think I need to ask you about’

Something about Kitty’s tone made Charles’ stomach turn. He had a feeling this wasn’t simply about the bottle of bourbon Armour had found at his desk last week. Kitty seemed to be waiting for him to respond.

‘Which student?’ Charles asked belatedly.

‘I don’t really think that’s the issue at hand here, Professor’ Kitty replied, her voice lacking its usual warmth. Lockheed seemed to give him a baleful stare.

Charles found his head back in his hands. Maybe if he didn’t look at her -  Kitty, Lockheed, and whatever that student had found, would simply go away.

‘Professor?’ Kitty prompted.

Bugger.

‘What did they find?’ Charles asked, reluctantly biting the bullet.

Kitty stepped up to his desk, eyes never leaving Charles. In front of him she lay five photographs, all in black and white. With a weary sigh, he picked them up to look at them. On closer inspection, they weren’t photos, but rather print-outs of photographs. The quality was poor; whatever website the student had pulled these from couldn’t be official. They didn’t need to be clear though, with a sinking heart Charles realised what they were – candid shots of his and Erik’s time working for the CIA. With bile rising up his throat, he studied each picture. The first three were relatively innocuous; a photo of the whole team in their first ever ‘uniforms’, one of him in the Cerebro prototype, with Erik at his side and the other of the whole team outside the old CIA facility, directly after Shaw’s attack. If it had only been those photos Kitty had brought to him, he could have dismissed her with a dry ‘official’ retelling of his time assisting the CIA. It was known (although not commonly known) that he and Erik had worked together at that time. Charles was sure it was even mentioned in a few of the history books here in the mansion’s library.

It was the final two photos that caused Charles’ stomach to roll. One showed the two of them playing chess together, on the steps in front of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. They were both laughing, the game between them seemingly forgotten. Erik had his hand on Charles’ knee, his posture relaxed and familiar, whilst Charles looked every inch the love-struck young man. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If that wasn’t bad enough, the other photo was a shot of the two of them lying together on a double-bed. They were both fully dressed, _thank God_ , heads bowed together, deep in conversation. Charles held a glass of champagne in his hand. The picture’s only saving grace was that it was not immediately obvious that he and Erik were in a strip club at the time. When the sodding hell had these photographs been taken? And by whom? He and Erik had expressly told the CIA that only they were to find the tracked mutants. Charles could still remember the line he’d used upon agreeing to mutant only recruitment mission - ‘ _I’m with Erik’_ ; allowing himself to take a chance on a handsome stranger. What a mistake that had been.

Looking from the photos to Kitty’s expectant expression, Charles realised how futile his outrage was. It was the CIA, of course they’d taken photos. He knew what he was signing up for. Regardless, the person who had taken these shots was likely already dead. Everybody involved was most likely dead, Charles thought morosely. Now there was just him, hungover in his study, his own stupidity coming back to bite him firmly in the arse.

‘Whaddaya want to know?’ he slurred, feeling like his whole world was crashing down around him.

A frown of annoyance flashed across Kitty’s face before she could school her expression back to one of neutrality.

‘Professor I’ve been an X-Man for all of my adult life,’ Kitty began, her words obviously rehearsed, ‘I’ve been both your student and your colleague…I’d like to think I can now call you my friend…’

‘Of course, you can!’ Charles interrupted, grasping for any other conversation topic bar this one, ‘You’re wanna my oldest friends Shadow- Kitty and…’

‘I know that you and Magneto have known each other a long time. I know that you and him were asked to work together a long time ago…but these photos Professor, they seem to show you were quite… _close_ ’ Kitty finished carefully.

A small laugh of panic found its way out of Charles’ mouth. Close, yes that was one way to put it. Charles scrambled for something to say that didn’t reveal himself to have been living a lie the past fifty-odd years. _You know our arch nemesis the Brotherhood? Well yes, as it happens, me and its leader actually happen to be quite chummy when he’s not off slaughtering the masses._

‘Please Charles,’ Kitty continued, her voice both gentle and insistent ‘I wouldn’t usually ask these sorts of questions, but you’ve just let one of the world’s most dangerous men into a _school_ and I need to know that it really is for the greater good and not just because of a shared history the two of you may or may not have’

Not just a computer genius then. In less than three minutes Kitty Pryde had managed to work Charles Xavier out. He could tell himself he was doing what he was to battle an oncoming evil, that the means justified the ends, but Charles knew that the only thing keeping him from picking up the phone to S.H.I.E.L.D. right now and telling them he was being held captive by their most wanted wasn’t the altruistic act of someone seeing the bigger picture – it was the desperate act of a man still clinging on to a connection that had been dead since 1962. The pounding in Charles’ head increased ten-fold and his stomach heaved. He refused to throw up in his own study, let alone in front of one of his team.

Charles didn’t know if it was the alcohol still flowing through his veins, the three hours of sleep he’d had the night before or nothing more than a desire for self-destruction, but he thought, _fuck it_ , and decided to tell Kitty Pryde, youngest of the X-Men, the truth. He would try his best not to slur.

‘You see this photo here?’ Charles pointed, indicating the picture of the two of them at the strip club. Kitty gave a small nod. ‘We’d spent the day tracking down a mutant I’d manged to find using an early draft of Cerebro. We ended up in a small town, Bryn Mawr, in Philadelphia. It turned out that the mutant we were looking for worked in a strip club; that’s where me and Erik were when this photo was taken’.

Charles took no pleasure in watching the colour drain from Kitty’s face.

‘We’d spent the best part of the afternoon looking for suits to buy so that they’d let us in there in the first place. We tossed a coin over who got to wear grey; I won, as you can see. Grey always brought out my eyes, or so I liked to think back then. Erik tried to get me to wear a waistcoat, but I refused; it was an unusually hot September and just the thought of adding another layer of clothing made me sweat. Anyway, we didn’t go into the club until about nine that evening. It wasn’t a particularly spectacular place, but it was obvious as soon as we arrived that we’d found who we were looking for. Unfortunately, it was an embarrassingly long time before we actually approached her; Erik and I used to have the most awful habit of getting so wrapped up in each other’s conversation that we’d forget everything around us. Thankfully, the young girl we were after ignored our impropriety and agreed to join our cause. Her name was Angel. She had the most remarkable mutation; beautiful insect-like wings that sprouted from her back. Not just that though – she could fly - and spit balls of fire too! She wasn’t with us for anywhere near long enough though, I’m afraid. She was killed a good many decades ago’

Charles cleared his throat in an attempt to conceal the lump that had formed in his throat.

‘This picture here is far less interesting,’ he began, pointing at the image of him and Erik on the memorial steps, ‘Erik and I had finished another long day recruiting possible mutants for the CIA, but this time, we’d had no luck. It was Erik’s idea to have a game outside, the weather was still too warm to be cooped up indoors for any length of time. We’d got onto talking about mutantkind, as we so often did…although thinking about it, this was possibly the first time Erik fully revealed his distrust of humans to me. He argued that by helping the CIA identify mutants like we were doing, we would ultimately be allowing the government to identify and segregate mutants in the future, and in turn, repeat the horrors of Nazi Germany. I disagreed, of course. This photo must have been taken long after that conversation was forgotten. I’m afraid I can’t remember what we were laughing abought though, love. It wasn’t unusual for us to laugh together back then; certainly not unusual enough for me to remember the joke over fifty years later anyway’

‘You look so _happy_ ’ Kitty remarked, her tone hard to read.

‘We were’ Charles smiled bitterly.

‘I owe you an explanation Kitty, I know. I owe all of you so many explanations and for that I am truly sorry. How best to put this? You and most of the mutants here today, have only ever known Erik as Magneto. That’s all he is known as now. Perhaps that’s as it should be. I, as you can see, knew Magneto before he had ever found that godforsaken helmet. I knew him back when he was just Erik, before any of this madness unfolded’

No,’ Charles corrected himself, ‘there was always madness – it just wasn’t created by him back then’.

He paused, his spinning head wondering how best to proceed.

‘The Erik I knew was a good man. He was still angry and bitter and filled with rage – there’s no denying that – but there was real goodness in him too. There are very few people left that know he helped me set up this very school. It was Erik’s idea to train the very first X-Men and we worked together; training not just our students, but each other too. I remember telling him that if he truly mastered his powers, he would possess a power _no-one_ could match, not even me. How those words have come back to haunt me, Kitty.  Yet, even during some of the worst of Magneto’s atrocities, Erik has always helped me when I needed it most. He has rebuilt not just this mansion, but also Cerebro itself. Was I wrong to accept his help? Almost certainly, my dear’.

Charles hesitated before looking Kitty straight in the eye.

‘The first time I met Erik was like being hit by a thunderbolt. It was far, _far_ more powerful than being in love, and those around us - Alex, Hank and Mystique - knew it. Our eyes were brighter. Our minds were faster. We would spend seventy-two straight hours talking about our ideas for the world. Erik is closer to me than my own sister…we’re like bookends of the same soul’

Charles stopped himself before he said more.

Kitty stared back at Charles but made no move to reply. Eternities passed whilst Charles sat, waiting for the X-Man’s judgement. He felt his heartbeat quicken, heard his breathing become more laboured as he continued to wait. Finally, without saying a word, Kitty collected the photographs from in front of him and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Charles did what he could to steady himself and waited for the call from S.H.I.E.L.D. He theorised Kitty would contact them within the hour.


	8. Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Emma begin to make their presence in the mansion known. Storm makes a decision.

The great thing about Scott Summers was that he had the most awesome vintage car collection. The worst thing about Scott Summers was that he insisted on telling you every minute detail about said cars whenever you were in one of them. Regardless, Bobby needed to get into town and apparently creating and surfing along an ice track to get there was an ‘inappropriate’ use of his powers. Plus, Scott was cute so hey, he had something to look at.

Scott had eventually decided on taking the BMW 507 roadster. As far as Bobby cared it was silver, it was fast and it cost more than the house he grew up in. Scott was doing his damnedest to change that though.

‘…was only produced from 1956 to 1959, with only 252 of them ever being made. They were meant to start shipping them over here in the States, but the production costs ended up being too high’

‘Mm-hmm’ Bobby replied, hoping he sounded suitably interested.

‘It was initially conceived by Max Hoffman who, in 1954, managed to persuade BMW to produce a roadster version of the 501 and 502 saloons’

After what seemed like an eternity, Scott turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. Bobby watched as Scott tried again and again. He didn’t know much about cars, but he _did_ know they were supposed to go vroom when you turned the key.

‘When was the last time you drove this thing?’ he asked.

‘No longer than three weeks ago… I don’t understand why it’s not working – it was only serviced a few months ago’ Scott replied agitatedly.

Bobby sat in the passenger seat, watching Scott getting more and more frustrated with every turn of the ignition key. Maybe an ice _sled_ into town would be an acceptable use of his powers…

Scott looked up from the dash at the same moment Bobby realised they were being watched. Standing in front of the car, about twenty feet away, was Magneto. Since arriving at the mansion, he’d never been seen without his infamous helmet and cape – which meant every time Bobby had ran into him over breakfast he’d almost had a heart attack thinking he was about to be turned into a popsicle over his morning bowl of Shreddies. That was so not how Bobby Drake wanted to leave this world. Did the man not own any regular clothes??

Magneto wasn’t looking at the X-Men, but instead seemed to be concentrating on the car they were sitting in. Bobby frantically calculated how quickly could they get out of it. Nowhere near quickly enough if Magneto decided to crush it. Slowly, Magneto raised his hand in the direction of the car. This was it. He was about to be turned into a slushie just because he wanted to pick up some new clothes from town.

‘Magneto!’ he heard Scott shout, the other man’s hand instinctively going to his visor.

‘The piston rings in the converter were warped. Try it again’ Magneto said, not sounding the least bit concerned about being shot by one of Scott’s lasers.

Silence followed. Nobody moved. Carefully, Scott moved his hand from his visor.

‘What?’ Bobby asked, making no attempt to hide the confusion in his voice.

‘The catalytic converter. The piston rings were damaged. Try the engine now’ Magneto replied.

Did Bobby just see him roll his eyes?

Scott turned the key as instructed. The roadster’s engine purred into life. Magneto gave them a sharp nod and strode out from the garage. Neither Bobby nor Scott spoke for several minutes, the car’s engine now turning over happily.

‘Did _Magneto_ just fix your car?’ Bobby asked eventually.

‘I …think he did’ Scott replied, equally dumbfounded.

 

******

One hour passed, then two, then three and Charles still hadn’t had a phone call. He was able to finish his classes, take two Alka-Seltzer and return to his bedroom without incident. Most likely, there was a SWAT team headed to the mansion right now, to arrest both him and Erik. Should he warn Erik? After a few minutes of brooding, Charles decided there was no point.

Another hour passed, and Charles was rethinking his decision to lay off the drink. He’d told himself earlier, after Kitty had left his study, that if he was about to be arrested and put on trial, he sure as hell wasn’t about to do it half-cut.  Now though, with the four walls of his bedroom seeming to close in on him, his resolve was wavering. What would be the harm in one last drink?

A sharp rap at his door made his decision for him. Sober he was to be.

‘Come in’ he instructed, proud of the way his voice stayed steady.

Charles was both relieved and confused to see Ororo standing at his door. Had she been sent to collect him? As if for the last time, Charles drank in the presence of one of his oldest friends. Just as it had been when they had first met; Storm’s beauty was impossible to ignore. Flawless ebony skin contrasted with her mane of shocking white hair. Charles would recognise the feel of her mind in a crowd of thousands. Her very presence exuded raw power, and whereas Erik may now own a crown, Ororo radiated more nobility than anybody Charles had ever met. She was both intimidating and compassionate, fierce and yet kind.  It was easy to see why her fellow Egyptians considered her a goddess; Charles himself felt the same way about her. He had planned to pass the school onto Storm when he died – chances are he would now outlive her.

‘Ororo my dear, what can I do for you?’ Hurriedly reading her surface thoughts, he picked up anger, resolve, sympathy – but nothing that seemed to indicate a team was waiting to take him away.

 _May we speak privately professor?_ Ororo projected. Sadly, she always lost her accent when speaking telepathically. _I don’t wish to be overheard._

_Of course, please – come in._

Charles wheeled himself away from the door and invited her to sit with him.

 _What’s troubling you?_ Charles asked.

Storm cut straight to the chase, as she always did. It was one of many things he admired about her.

_Over many years we have fought Magneto and his Brotherhood. We have waged wars against him and have risked all our lives trying to end his bloodlust – all whilst trying to build humanity’s trust in our own kind. I have watched as friends have been murdered by this man; I myself have almost lost my life. Despite all this, Magneto stands here today, exiled from this country and asks for your help. And you give it, Professor._

Charles struggled to maintain eye contact and felt a blush spread across his cheeks, his shame clear for her to see.

_I do not care for rumours as to why you are allowing Magneto into your home and I will not question your decision, although I want to. I promised to fight beside you to realise your dream a long time ago and I will not break that promise now. What I do need to know is this; what do you want me to do with the Brotherhood now that they are here? _

The question threw Charles. What was Storm offering to do? Surely, she didn’t mean?

_What I mean, Professor, is when are we going to start using them? I know Magneto has offered to train us and has asked that we train his men in return. I appreciate you have been…. indisposed recently, but if I have to look at Emma’s bare backside one more time, without her making herself useful to us, I will electrocute her. _

Charles let out a sharp laugh. Relief flooded through him as he realised Ororo had made no mention of Kitty alerting the authorities. Had she managed to convince Kitty to give him another, thoroughly undeserved, chance?

_Ororo, I appreciate your sentiment but…_

_No,_ Ororo interrupted, her tone stern, _I will not allow that man in this house if he isn’t going to help. I understand your concern Charles, but we need to take him at his word if this is going to work._

The professor was silent as he considered her words. He knew the situation as it stood couldn’t go on indefinitely – but was he really ready to allow the X-Men and Brotherhood to train together? Storm seemed to think they were ready, even if Charles wasn’t so sure. The thought of Erik teaching any of his students, no matter how old, made him feel ill. As Storm said though, why was he going through all this if not to learn to fight together?

 _If Erik does anything…_ Charles began.

 _If Magneto so much as whispers anything of his fascist agenda in this place, I will turn him into ashes_ Ororo promised.

You could try, thought Charles dourly. He knew he couldn’t hold this off forever and he couldn’t think of a plausible reason to delay it any longer.

_Okay, okay. But Storm? I’m afraid I’m not quite up to…training just yet. I’m afraid I’ll need to ask you to put this together, if I may?_

_I would consider it a privilege_ , the Egyptian smiled.

Charles returned a smile he did not feel as she got up to leave.

_It would be good to see you back in the school though, Charles. We all miss you._

_I know love. I miss you all too._

_Oh, and before I go…_

_Yes?_

_I am not certain this ‘Erik’ of yours exists anymore - if he did at all, … but if he does, I think I would like to meet him. Anyone who can convince Professor X to go to a strip club is someone worth knowing in my opinion._

Charles allowed Storm to feel the burst of warmth and affection he felt for her in that moment. He both felt and saw her grin in response. He would have given this woman his mansion, his school and his legacy – and it still wouldn’t have been nearly enough.

_Until next time, Professor._

*****

Jubilee woke up to the sound of a child screaming. Instantly awake, she shot from her bed, hastily threw on a dressing gown and threw open the door to her room. The screaming had stopped. Listening hard she couldn’t make out any other sounds bar the familiar creaks and groans of old pipes and expanding floorboards. At least they didn’t seem to be under attack, or so she hoped. There tended to be more screaming involved. Quietly easing her way into the hallway, Jubilee made her way to the floor below.

The mansion at night had always given her the creeps, and tonight was no exception. It was cavernous and imposing, a million miles away from the two-bedroom apartment her foster parents had owned. The oil paintings on the walls seemed to follow her as she made her way downstairs, every footfall she made on the old staircase announced by an ominous creak. The only painting that didn’t freak her out was the one done of the Professor, back when he was a child. Jubilee guessed her was about nine or ten in the picture. The professor had hidden it away of course, apparently taking it down as soon as he inherited the building from his mother. The moment her class found out about its existence however, they’d pestered the professor relentlessly to put it back up. It was huge, ridiculous and unbelievably vain, but the children had loved seeing it on the wall; a piece of Xavier history for everyone to share. Now, it seemed like the only comforting thing in a hostile place. She let her hands glow with unignited energy, the power between her fingertips both lighting the way and giving her courage.

As she arrived on the floor below, Jubilee heard whimpers once again. This time, she could make out it was a girl. Following the sound, she belatedly realised she should have woken up somebody else too. You never knew what you were going to find in this place. The moans were coming out of Bling’s room; a young girl with the appearance of pure diamond. Her ability to project diamond shards would make her both a great offensive and defensive member of the team one day, should she want to.  The door to Bling’s room was ajar, unlike everyone else’s. Cursing her decision to come downstairs alone, Jubilee increased the pyrotechnic potential in her hands and stepped into the room.

Sitting at the girl’s bedside was none other than the White Queen herself. Wearing nothing more than a white bodice and thong (surely, she didn’t actually sleep in that?); her usually perfect hair casually tossed over one shoulder, not a scrap of make-up on her face. Irritatingly, it was possible Frost looked even better without it. The Queen of Genosha had Bling’s hand in her own. Jubilee’s blood ran cold. There was no way she could take on an omega level mutant, let alone one as ruthless as Frost. It took Jubilee a moment to realise Emma was whispering to the young mutant.

‘Ssshh darling, it was only a dream……Ssshh it’s over now….’

Without looking up from her ward, Frost spoke to Jubilee -  her voice barely louder than a whisper.

‘She was having a bad dream, but she’s almost settled again now’

Looking over at Bling, Jubilee realised the young girl was asleep. Frost was stroking her thumb over the back of Bling’s hand. Jubilee remembered Professor X doing the same thing for her back when she missed home, his telepathy soothing her back to sleep. It was one of her fondest memories.

‘You’re…gg-getting her back to s-sleep?’ she stammered.

‘Oh, don’t be so trite Jubilee; her nightmares were deafening’ Emma scolded.

Not knowing how to respond and being reasonably sure no one was in any immediate danger, Jubilee hurried back to her room. She wished she had called somebody downstairs with her - _nobody_ was going to believe this come morning.

 

*****

It had been a spectacularly long day, so it was with great pleasure that Charles locked his bedroom door and finally lay his head down on his pillow. Having spoken to Hank earlier that evening, he’d discovered Kitty hadn’t alerted anyone to Magnetos’ presence, but had rather settled on bad-mouthing him for the entirety of the day. Charles would take what he could get. His hangover had finally eased to a dull ache and the threat of a similar one tomorrow had kept him away from the whiskey decanter stashed in his wardrobe. Naturally, it was at that exact same moment that there came yet another knock at the door. Charles promised himself that he was moving rooms tomorrow.

His telepathy now back in full working order, he stretched out to see who his late-night caller was. He was met with a dead, empty nothingness. Both his stomach and his telepathy lurched at the sensation; all of his senses screamed at him that something was wrong. He was inclined to agree with them, knowing full well what came with that awful silence.

‘I know you’re in there Charles’

Before he could answer, Charles heard the door unlocking off its own accord.

‘I’m in bed, Erik’ he protested.

‘Nothing I haven’t seen before then’

Erik could have innocently been referring to the handful of times he’d seen Charles bedridden – usually (and most recently) put there by Erik’s own men. His brain paid no heed to this however and insisted on providing Charles with a flashback reel of all the times Erik could have been referring to instead. Feeling the inevitable blush spread across his cheeks, he turned to see Erik come through the door.

Ridiculously, he continued to wear his helmet and cape, but that didn’t come as a surprise to Charles. Magneto was never seen without them. A stray thought entered his mind – was Erik’s hair still the same? He realised he hadn’t actually seen the older man’s hair since they had both de-aged; was it its original auburn colour or had Erik done something absurd, like dyed it? Perhaps he had, at Emma’s command. The thought made Charles smile despite himself.

‘Glad to you’re feeling brighter, old friend. Is it helping?’

The question threw Charles as he struggled to understand Erik’s meaning.

‘Is _what_ helping?’

‘The drink. Is it helping you mask whatever it is you don’t want to be feeling?’ Erik asked flippantly.

‘Fuck you Erik’

‘Wallowing in self-pity has never suited you. I could never understand why a man with a remarkable a mind as yours would ever feel the need to dull it with alcohol’ the older man said, his voice sounding genuinely curious.

‘I think out of the two of us, I’ve picked the better vice’ Charles shot back.

‘I don’t kill for the fun of it Charles, despite what you may think’ instinctively knowing what the professor was referring to.

‘I am not having this conversation now Erik. Not after the day I’ve had’ Charles sighed.

‘Why? What’s happened?’ Erik’s brow creased in what-appeared-to-be concern.

Charles thought back to the photos Kitty had shown him this morning. He supposed Erik had a right to know.

‘A student found some photos of us. I had a few rather _uncomfortable_ questions to answer’

He watched as horror washed over Erik’s face, coming to a conclusion Charles hadn’t anticipated.

‘What? Oh god Erik, no. One of the students managed to find some photos of us from when we were working with the CIA’ Charles explained.

The colour slowly started to return to the German’s face.

‘They didn’t take any photos’

‘That’s what I thought too’

A comfortable silence settled between them. Erik made his way towards Charles, sitting himself on the end of his bed.

‘So why the uncomfortable questions? It’s hardly a secret’ Erik asked.

‘Well as it happens, not too many people do actually know about it; but that’s not what I meant. Two of the photos show us to have been a little _closer_ than the history books make out. They managed to get a photo of us when we were recruiting Angel’ Charles voice was grim.

Erik’s laugh caught him by surprise.

‘At the strip club?!’

‘The very one’ Charles deadpanned.

Another peal of laughter from Erik made Charles grin in return.

‘We were on the bed too’ the Brit added.

‘Drink in hand?’

‘But of course’

‘What did you tell them?’ Erik enquired, after another short pause.

‘The truth. Not everything, obviously … but enough’

‘I see’, Erik ran his hand over the back of his neck, soothing away whatever tension was there. Charles wondered if the helmet was heavy. He supposed it must be.  

‘Mein Gott Charles, we took some risks back then. Two men relaxing on a bed together in 1962. Can you remember the looks we got that night?’

Charles smirked and met Erik’s gaze.

 ‘I can…unfortunately I can also remember the look I got this morning when a member of my staff saw a photo of it too’

‘Who saw it?’

‘Kitty. She’s not exactly happy with me right now’

‘I’m not surprised Charles – you’ve been fraternising with the enemy’, Erik replied sarcastically, ‘Did she pay any attention to how long ago the photos were taken?’

‘I may have told her you’ve been … _helping_ me, over the years’ Charles replied, his voice tight.

‘Ah’

‘Indeed’

Charles gazed over at Erik as the other man looked away. It really was like having that old photo come to life before him. He was all sharp angles and a cut-glass jaw; even if half of his face was bloody hidden. Erik really was devastatingly good looking. Charles remembered chestnut hair worn short - matching his no nonsense, efficient attitude.

‘What colour is it now?’ Charles blurted out. This time it was Erik’s turn to be confused.

‘What?’ Erik asked, confusion crinkling his face.

‘Your hair’, Charles explained, ‘Is it still the same colour as before?’ he added bashfully. He watched as Erik fought to keep up with his trail of thought.

‘Are you asking me if my hair is still brown Charles?’, he asked warmly, ‘Yes, my hair is still brown’ Erik smiled.

‘Well, it’s not as if I get to see it anymore, is it?’ Charles laughed.

Erik’s demeanour instantly changed. His once open expression immediately became guarded, he sat up straighter and looked away from Charles.

‘It’s a necessary evil’ he said sharply, his accent sharpening his words further.

‘A necessary evil against what Erik? Against me?’ Charles replied tersely, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.

‘Amongst others’ the German replied, any previous warmth in his tone now gone.

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?!’

Erik got up from the bed and paced towards the other side of the room, putting distance between himself and Charles.

‘I’m not as naïve as you Charles… I’m fully aware of what others are capable of’

‘What others are capable of?!’ Charles shouted incredulously, ‘You are the only one here that has killed, Erik. You wear that godforsaken thing, preaching about what others would do to you, when the reality is **_you_** are the very worst of us!’ Charles retorted, Erik’s lack of self-awareness instantly sparking his anger.

‘Are you sure about that, old friend? At least _I_ allow people free will – the freedom to make their own decisions. You want to talk about killing? Tell me Charles, how many young mutants have _you_ sent to their deaths? Indoctrinate them, train them, get them killed - that’s how you work. Sitting here in your mansion, talking of peace,’ he sneered, ‘At least I go out and fight with my men; I don’t get others to do my fighting for me’

Charles felt a wave of anger crash over him.

‘How **_dare_** you come in here…’

‘How dare I what, Charles? How dare I come in here and tell you the truth?! You brainwash children to do your killing for you, alter the memories of anyone who gets hurt by your precious ‘X-Men’, lock mutants own powers away from them for their own good – and you expect me to take this off?!’,Erik snapped, pointing to his helmet, ‘You’ve had your fun Charles, you’re not getting inside this head again’

Charles did what he could to calm himself, he would not let Erik lead him into another screaming match.

‘I provide a safe haven for mutants; which is more than you’ve ever done Erik. My students come _and stay_ of their own free will, they’re not ruled by fear and coercion. I do what I have to do to protect them and sometimes that means altering the memories of the public and limiting mutant’s powers for their own good’ Charles explained, working to keep his tone even.  

‘Their own good? Gott in Himmel Charles, have you heard yourself? How can you be so arrogant?! What gives you the right to neuter the natural abilities of another? You’re only ever happy when you can control someone, aren’t you?’

‘Rita McDaniel’ Charles said, ignoring Erik’s accusations.

‘What?!’ Erik all but snarled at Charles.

‘Doesn’t mean anything to you does it, Erik?’

The other man didn’t reply and instead just stood glowering at Charles in his bed.

‘Rita McDaniel is the name of the last person you ever killed on American soil. She was 86. Grandmother to no less than eight grandchildren, she’d lost her husband the year before to cancer. When she was younger she’d worked as a nurse, but since retiring she’d volunteered at a local hospice every other Tuesday. Rita was out walking her dog when you attacked New York, Erik. A building _you_ brought down fell on her. Rita didn’t die then though. That 86-year-old woman struggled through four more weeks of agony in a hospital bed before she gave up fighting. You want to know the best bit Erik?’

Erik remained silent, his gaze never leaving Charles.

‘She was a mutant. A telepath like me. You’ve never cared much for telepaths though have you Erik?

At first, Erik didn’t move…then suddenly, all the metal in Charles’ room began to shake. The bedframe, the chandelier, the lamps, the door handles and the mirror all began to quiver violently, as if Erik was deciding which one to use against him first. Shouts sounding from around the mansion let Charles know the same was happening everywhere else too. Car alarms began blaring from the garage three floors below. Just as it looked as if Erik was going to say something, the vibrating abruptly stopped. Ripping his gaze away from Charles, Erik marched out of the room and Charles had his door slammed for the second time that day.

Good, Charles thought, at least he’d got to the bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I begin to 'redeem' the Brotherhood - if every so slowly, and with Erik taking ten steps back along the way. Bare with me for the next chapter; I have a teething baby and am back in work from Monday :( . Hoping to have the next instalment with you by the weekend!


	9. Hats Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Charles back in control, Bobby makes a dangerous decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to lighten things up a bit for this chapter - hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Also, in case it wasn't painfully obvious, I'm working on the premise that Bobby is out and proud, as he is (well, one of him is) in the comics :)

Bobby stumbled down the stairs to breakfast, clothes tossed on and hair askew, cursing himself for not setting his alarm the night before. He now had twenty minutes to grab some food, make himself presentable, run over his lesson plan _and_ get to his class before the bell rang at 9 o’clock. The sad thing was he hadn’t even gone out last night; these days he just needed the sleep. His thirties were proving to be a stark reminder that middle age was lurking right around the corner. Nevertheless, he cajoled his muscles into picking up the pace and made it into the kitchen in record time.

It was a beautiful morning, the morning sun having already melted away last night’s frost, and sunlight was streaming in through the slatted blinds by the sinks. A few figures were already milling around; Scott and Jean were over by the fridge talking amongst themselves, Remy was making his way through some toast at the counter island, whilst Rogue and Colossus were watching the morning’s news with a coffee in hand. None of the mansion’s younger inhabitants were ever spotted in here before ten. Before the first class of the day, the kitchen was a sanctum of calm for the school’s teachers. Not wanting to disturb anybody, Bobby hastily grabbed his cereal of choice and made his way over to the scruffy old dining table on the left-hand side of the room.

It wasn’t until he sat down that Bobby realised the Professor was sitting at the table - an all too uncommon sight as of late. Charles was reading the paper, whilst holding his cup of tea (the Prof _never_ drank coffee) in both hands. Rescanning the room, Bobby could see how the rest of the mutants were keeping a polite distance; no doubt as a result of all the shouting Kitty had done the day before. Bobby knew Kitty’s heart was in the right place; he’d dated her for long enough to know that she wasn’t deliberately trying to hurt Charles. She was scared for her friends and the children. What’s more, everyone here knew her fears were justified. Bobby couldn’t help but feel bad for the Professor though. His eyes, usually full of laughter, were now just sad – as if he could hear what the rest of the room was thinking. Mentally kicking himself, Bobby reminded himself the Professor could do exactly that.

‘S’up Prof’ Bobby greeted, now trying to break the silence of the room.

A warm smile spread across the Professor’s face and Bobby was instantly glad he’d said something.

‘Good morning Bobby’ he replied.

‘It’s good to have you back’

‘It’s good to be back’ the Professor smiled. Bobby felt a warm rush of affection wash over him. The Professor’s telepathic equivalent of a hug. Or a firm handshake – the man was British after all.

If what Kitty had told the rest of them was true, and he had no reason to doubt that it was, Bobby honestly couldn’t blame Charles from keeping his and Magneto’s history from them. He knew a thing or two about keeping secrets. Hell, if he had been besties with one of the worst people to have ever lived, he’d have kept quiet about it too. There was no denying the photos had taken him by surprise – and not only because they showed that Magneto was capable of human emotion. What everyone had thought had been an uneasy alliance to stop the Cuban Missile Crisis had actually turned out to be the start of a decades long friendship between The World’s Angriest Man™ and Professor Cinnamon Roll. Bobby didn’t know whether he believed the other rumours; some things were just too hard to get your head around at 8:45 am on a Monday morning. Apparently, the Professor had used the ‘L’ word to Kitty though, so who-the-hell-knows. _If_ it was true, and the Professor had actually _dated_ The World’s Angriest Man™ in a time when it was actually illegal to do so AND THEN his psychotic ex-boyfriend had gone on to terrorise half the known world and set up his own evil dictatorship, Bobby could _definitely_ understand why he’d want to keep that a secret.

‘Penny for your thoughts’ Charles’ clipped accent broke his train of thought.

Bobby desperately scrabbled to think of any line of discussion that didn’t involve theoretical murderous ex-boyfriends.

‘You going to brave teaching today?’ Bobby replied, looking Charles in the eye and definitely _not_ blushing, ‘The pipsqueaks have missed you’

‘I’ll be taking my afternoon classes; I’m afraid my appearance was all a bit short-notice and Jean already has my morning lessons planned’

The professor swirled the last dregs of tea in his cup, before drinking what was left and tidily folding away the paper he had been reading. There was no way this man had ever got jiggy with Magneto. Just thinking about it almost fried Bobby’s brain.

Conscious that the start of his lesson was getting closer -and that he still hadn’t planned the damn thing yet – Bobby rushed the rest of his cereal, whilst trying not to look too hot and flustered to the others. He was the Iceman for pity’s sake, he did not get hot and flustered.

As he was rising from his chair, Bobby was stopped in his tracks by the sight of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous man entering the kitchen. He swiftly took in the other man’s appearance; all long limbs and taught, lean muscle. Towering a good few inches above Bobby’s head (and he was by no means short, _thank you very much_ ), the newcomer had a short crop of rust brown hair and a jaw line Bobby was certain could actually cut glass. On top of all that, the stranger had the most piercing gaze he had ever seen; a hard, gun-metal blue that seemed to bore into you.

With a jolt, Bobby recognised the eyes looking back at him. He’d seen that stare countless times before, usually on the news but occasionally on the battlefield; gazing out from behind the sharp lines of his trademark helmet. The man in the kitchen was Magneto. Bobby felt his stomach lurch as he realised who he’d just been checking out. He didn’t know which to bleach first; his eyes for seeing it or his brain for thinking it. Bobby freaked, why the hell hadn’t he recognised him?! At once, the answer became obvious. Magneto wasn’t wearing his helmet. Quickly thinking back, Bobby couldn’t think of a single time when he hadn’t been wearing it – he never took it off. During press conferences, public appearances, even in his home country, Magneto was never seen without it. The Magneto in the kitchen was even in civilian clothes too – jeans and a t-shirt. A very fitted t-shirt, Bobby’s brain traitorously noted. What the ever-loving fuck was going on?

The rest of the room seemed to be doing the same mental gymnastics Bobby was. Everyone had turned to stare at Magneto, all trying to weigh up what he was going to do next. Bobby reminded himself that both Jean and Charles were in the room; they could stop Magneto in his tracks if he so much as breathed funny. They could, right? Ignoring the reactions of those around him, the World’s Angriest Man™ stalked over to coffee machine for his daily caffeine hit. Bobby had seen him do it several times since he’d arrived at the mansion, but never looking so _normal_. Not that there was anything normal about the man currently scowling at the dark liquid pouring itself into his cup. Even dressed as he was, Magneto stuck out like a sore thumb. He always seemed to have his own gravitational field; his very presence sucking you in, whether you liked it or not. Maybe it was something to do with his mutation.

Bobby took a deep breath and looked round the room, waiting for somebody else, _anybody else_ , to address the Magento-shaped elephant in the room.

 

*****

_You can come in Charles_

Charles sat at the kitchen table, across from Bobby Drake and struggled to believe his eyes. Erik wasn’t wearing his helmet. After everything that had been said last night even. It was a testament to Charles’ willpower that he didn’t dive straight into the German’s mind, to hell with the consequences. He could feel the mechanical thrum of the other man’s surface thoughts, intoxicating in both their familiarity and their novelty. Just how long had it been since he’d felt Erik’s mind with his own? Charles was all too aware that he was just one little push from learning all of Erik’s innermost thoughts; all his fears, all his desires…all of Magneto’s most horrifying plans.

_Charles?_

Erik’s ‘voice’ was insistent but without his helmet, Charles could feel the hesitation and fear behind his words. Fear was not an emotion he’d associated with Erik for a very long time.

_Erik, what are you doing?_

There was a pause before the German spoke again, seemingly absorbed in drinking his cup of coffee.

_Last night when I said you were only happy when controlling people…it was wrong of me. You’ve had ample opportunity to stop me all this time and you never have._

Charles wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

_I was hoping this would go some way towards apologising._

_I never expected you to…_

_I know Charles, but if we’re to achieve anything here we need to be able to trust each other._

Although obvious, Erik’s words startled Charles. Trust was not something he had associated with Erik for a very long time now. Despite this, the enormity of what Erik was doing was not lost on him. He wasn’t just levelling the playing field, by taking off his helmet, Erik was handing control over to Charles. There was nothing that Erik could now do that Charles wouldn’t be able to stop if he saw fit. The thought was both daunting and intoxicating. Looking around the kitchen, Charles noted how every pair of eyes were flitting between Erik and himself, wondering what the two of them were saying to each other. He could tell Jean hadn’t eavesdropped so far – although she desperately wanted to.

_Everyone here needs to trust each other Erik…and I don’t think we’re doing anybody any favours by speaking so privately…_

At that, Erik seemed to become aware of the stares pointing their way. With an audible sigh, he made his way over to where Charles was sitting.

_You’d think they’d never seen two people having a conversation before._

_In their defence Erik, I doubt anybody here has ever seen **us** having a conversation before. _

‘Storm tells me that you’re ready for us to start training’ Erik spoke out loud, changing the topic and throwing Charles line of thought. If anything, the X-Men around them seemed more taken aback now that Erik was speaking out loud. The absurdity of the two of them making chit-chat over breakfast was not lost on Charles either.

‘Er, yes but how do you see that working?” Charles answered, playing catch up.

‘I don’t think we’re ready to work together in the Danger Room yet and until Hank has had a look the things were going to be going up against, we wouldn’t be able to run any realistic scenarios anyway’ Erik replied without missing a beat.

‘Dare I ask how Hank is going to get that information?’

‘He wants to speak with Magik in Genosha; we have one of the demons captured there. He needs Cerebro to do that though, so he’s been waiting for you to give the go-ahead’

Charles swallowed down the guilt that threatened to swallow him. His friends had needed him here; to make decisions, plan strategies, to move the team forward. Instead he’d been in his room, getting drunk. Charles pushed past his own shortcomings and focussed on the task in hand.

‘Couldn’t you have teleported him to Genosha?’ Charles enquired, genuinely curious as to why Erik hadn’t done so already. Hank may have been happy to wait for Charles, but that had never been Erik’s style.

‘He was _remarkably resistant_ to the idea’ Erik answered, smirking into his coffee cup.

Charles couldn’t help but reply with an answering smile of his own; Hank never had gotten over his run in with Azazel all those years ago. Excluding matters of life and death, he’d blatantly refused to be teleported anywhere ever since. Charles tried to remember that his closest friends were currently watching his every move and set his expression back to one of careful neutrality.

‘I don’t think a group training exercise would be in anybody’s best interests just yet’

‘Exactly – which is why I was hoping to be able to train with someone one-on-one’

‘One-on-one?’ Charles’ hesitation was easy to hear.

‘That way we’ll get the best idea of our different combat styles and can work on improving them’ Erik carried on, ignoring Charles’ obvious concerns.

Charles mulled over Erik’s proposition. It made sense, of course. Every new member of the team that was brought in was put up against one of the longest serving X-Men - it was the quickest way to identify strengths and weaknesses, whilst highlighting areas of improvement for both parties. The old X-Man would learn a few new tricks, whilst the newest member would adopt the team’s default fighting style. It was the thought of _Erik_ training with one of his friends that was making Charles worry – he’d seen the man in action.

 _They can look after themselves Charles,_ Erik mentally chided, apparently reading Charles’ thoughts.

‘You’ll need a volunteer’ Charles said out loud. Erik may be right, but he’d be damned if he was going to make one of his team face off against a man as potentially volatile as Erik.

‘I’ll do it’ a voice chimed in from across the table. Charles, Erik and the rest of the room turned to look at Bobby, who had been watching the two of them intensely up until now.

‘Bobby, there’s no need to fight Erik…’ Charles began, despite being unable to think of any better alternative.

‘Sure there’s not Prof', but I’m an X-Man; pointless combat is what we do best’ Iceman cheerily replied.

Well, there was no arguing with that.


	10. Breaking the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Erik clash.

Once the shock of Magneto being a Grade A piece of ass underneath his helmet and cape had worn off, Bobby came to realise what an awful decision he may have made. He managed to muddle his way through his three classes of the day, answer student questions and even grab some dinner, all without panicking. Now though, he was suited up in the Danger Room opposite a man with breath-taking anger management issues.  Magneto hadn’t even bothered to put on any armour and was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt Bobby had seen him in that morning. He didn’t know whether to take that as a sign that Magneto was going to play nice, or the more likely option, that he didn’t consider Bobby enough of a threat to bother suiting up for. The last time Bobby had fought Magneto, he’d been an old man – and Bobby had _still_ got his ass handed to him. Since the older man had forced that poor girl to de-age both himself and the Professor back in New York, Magneto was back in his prime. The man in front of him not only had over 70 years combat experience, he was also now back in the shape he was in the 1960’s. Bobby concentrated on breathing whilst reminding himself that Magneto didn’t actually want to kill him this time. He hoped.

Both the Professor and Jean were watching from the control room, silently acting as safety nets for Bobby should Magneto get out of line. They weren’t going to run a training scenario like the team usually did - but would rather be pitting the two mutants against each other to see what they could learn from each other. Marvellous. Bobby ignored the little voice in his head that was telling him the only thing _he_ was going to learn was just how high his pain threshold was.

‘Good evening, your Royal Terribleness’ Bobby said, breaking the silence between the two men.

Magneto merely raised an eyebrow at Bobby’s words.

‘Erik will do just fine, thank you Mr Drake’ he replied flatly.

 _Erik._ It didn’t feel right for Bobby to even **think** Magneto’s ‘real’ name, let alone say it. He didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone say his real name before – apart from the Professor of course, but Charles had always been uncomfortable using people’s codenames. The Professor only ever called him ‘Iceman’ during official statements, after all.

‘Oookay – what do you have in mind Erik?’

Nope, it definitely didn’t feel right.

Magne – Erik let a slow smile spread across his face, in a way that Bobby was absolutely certain was intended to freak him out. It worked.

‘I was hoping you’d hit me with the best of what you’ve got _Iceman_ ’ Erik said Bobby’s codename with just the right level of condescension to get Bobby’s back up.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard what I said – hit me with the **best** you’ve got’ Erik smirked.

‘You’re not wearing any armour’ Bobby reasoned, doing what he could to keep his voice calm. He was prepared to get his ass kicked by Magneto – that didn’t mean he was going to sit there whilst the man mocked him though.

‘I can handle whatever you can throw at me, Mr Drake. I don’t think I need to protect myself from the X-Men’s most unimpressive member of the team’

Bobby lashed out at the older man without thinking, projecting a handful of razor-sharp ice shards at him. _My God,_ this guy was an asshole. Erik stepped out of the firing line before the last icicle had even left Bobby’s hand. Not a single one hit him. Frustrated, Bobby sent a stream of ice straight into the space Erik was walking into it. Without expression, the man simply levitated above the frozen stretch of floor. So far, so not good.

‘It’s going to take more than snowballs to stop _me_ ’ Erik smiled. Bobby pointedly ignored the way his smile made his grey eyes flash.

Before Bobby could react, Erik raised his hand and sent him flying into the other side of the Danger Room. His feeling of weightlessness abruptly ended as Bobby landed heavily on his left side. Ignoring the pain that radiated through his shoulder, he quickly got back onto his feet, not wanting to leave himself vulnerable in front of Magneto for any longer than necessary. All too slowly, the oxygen returned to his lungs.

 _Bobby!!! Are you alright?!_ he heard the Professor all-but-shout into his mind.

_I’m fine Prof’. Although I’ve gotta admit, how you ever tolerated this man is beyond me._

_I’ve thought the same thing myself many times before Bobby. Are you sure you’re okay to carry on?_

What little pride Bobby had refused to let him leave after just one attack from the other man. Bobby reminded himself that behind his Magneto persona, Erik was just another mutant. He’d fought plenty of mutants; there was no need to disproportionally terrified of this one.

 _Sure thing – it’s nothing I haven’t had done to me before_ Bobby replied, all whilst questioning his own sanity.

‘If you’ve quite finished your little chit-chat,’ he heard Magneto interrupt ‘I think you were about to start fighting back?’

Bobby spun to face the other man. There was no way Erik should have been able to throw him around.

‘How did you do that? This suit doesn’t…’

‘Doesn’t have any metal on it?’ he interrupted ‘Mr Drake… do you not think I’d have thought a way around Beast’s little costumes by now?’

The taller man strode over to Bobby, stopping only a few inches away. Bobby assured himself he was not intimidated.

‘The metal I used isn’t on your body Iceman, it’s in _you_. Four tiny grams of iron, spread throughout your muscles, your blood, your connective tissue. It’s not much, but it’s all I need. I can feel it now, pumping through your heart _’_

A cold sense of dread crept up Bobby, his usual trademark glibness deserting him. Magneto could feel his heartbeat? He was astonishingly, devastatingly outclassed. His brain hurriedly provided him with every reason why Bobby **should** be disproportionately terrified of the man standing inches away from him. He’d volunteered to fight the goddamn _King of Genosha_. What the hell had he been thinking?!

‘You know why I can do that Bobby? Because I’m an omega-level mutant’ Magneto raised his right hand, lifting Bobby into the air along with it. Bobby’s fear threatened to turn into full-blown panic.

‘Charles tells me you’re an omega too Mr Drake, although I’ve yet to see any evidence’ Erik sneered. As he spoke, Bobby was levitated higher and higher into the air, the ceiling of the Danger Room was getting worryingly close.

_Professor?!_

_It’s okay Bobby, Jean and I are keeping a close eye on Erik – he doesn’t wish you any harm_

Bobby hoped to God the Professor was right.

‘How about you start acting like the omega you **are** instead of the eternal teenager you wish to be? Every single one of your teammates has earned themselves a reputation in their own right; but what have you done? You’ve sat in their shadows, basking in _their_ glory, either too scared or too lazy to reach your full potential’ Erik mocked.

‘That’s **_not_ ** true’ Bobby protested, ignoring the way his stomach roiled at the sight of the drop below him.

‘Oh, is it not? Cyclops single-handedly defeated Mr Sinister, Jean destroyed the Hellfire Club, Shadowcat was thirteen years old when she fought The White Queen and _won,_ Beast defeated Kraven the Hunter whilst tranquilised and Rogue has permanently absorbed the powers of Miss Marvel…’

‘I’m not sure that last one’s a good thing...’ Bobby choked out, his fear of heights doing nothing for his higher reasoning.

‘And then there’s _you_ ’ Erik mocked ‘The perpetual sidekick. Playing with snowballs and ice sleds when you could be so much **more**. I’m not surprised though…for years you were too scared to even admit to yourself who you were, before settling on an _Inhuman_ for a boyfriend’

Erik’s words tore Bobby’s attention from how high he was and straight back down to the mutant below him.

‘Don’t you **DARE** bring Romeo into this!’ Bobby warned, his anger momentarily overpowering his sense of self-preservation. He hadn’t seen or heard from Romeo since the law had forbid any sort o relationship between them. Bobby had called him so many times but had only been met with a cold silence. Erik ignored him.

‘So here you are, faced with the very man who made sure you’d never be able to be in a relationship with somebody less than you are ever again, and you throw _icicles_ at me. He was pathetic, a pale imitation of what a mutant can be. You were ruining yourself with an _Inhuman_ – a creature that doesn’t deserve the share the ground you walk on, let alone your bed.  I’ve done you a favour Iceman, you’ll never be with him again’. Erik’s words were laced with derision, sweeping away everything that Romeo and Bobby had ever meant to each other.

Something inside Bobby snapped and he felt an unfamiliar rage wash over him. Before stopping to think, he put every bit of power he could muster into breaking out of Erik’s hold and showing him **exactly** what Bobby Drake thought of the ban on inter-species relationships. With a roar, he felt his body expanding and lengthening; not painfully; but rather with a _release_. With Erik’s hold on him slipping, Bobby felt himself fall through the air. Using the rage he felt coursing inside him, Bobby focussed on hardening his body as he hurtled towards the floor. With a crash, the ground he landed on smashed, pieces of metal flying in different directions. Standing up from his crouched position, Bobby realised he now towered above Erik – he was double his height. Looking down, he realised with horror that his body was no longer his own. Where normal, regular human skin had been was now a frosty combination of ice and snow. It wasn’t just his height but also his weight that had doubled. His once lean physique was now an icy bulk of muscle. Bobby desperately tried to provide a logical explanation to what he was seeing but all he could come up with was ‘ _I’m going to spend the rest of my days as the Christmas Edition of the Hulk._ As he went to launch himself at the man responsible, Bobby froze. Magneto was _smiling._ Not just smiling, he was positively beaming at Bobby – and not in his creepy ‘playing with your food’ sort of way; if he didn’t know any better, Bobby would say Erik looked proud.

‘That’s more like it’ the older man grinned, lowering his hands back down to his side.

‘What have you done to me?!’ Bobby demanded. As much as he respected the guy, he did not want to spend the rest of his days looking even more ‘mutanty’ than Hank.

‘Nothing. Sometimes all you need is a little… _anger_ to get things going’ Erik explained.

‘You were winding me up?! I look like a giant goddamn snowcone!’

‘All you’ve done is stretched the limits of your powers; you can turn back any time you want Bobby’ Erik sighed.

‘I can?’

‘Just relax’ he prompted.

That was easier said than done when you were doing the world’s best impression of a Yeti whilst faced with the biggest threat to international peace known to man. Bobby forced himself to relax and let his powers slowly cool down. As promised, Bobby returned back to his former self.

‘That was not cool, man’

‘That is just the tip of the iceberg, Mr Drake. You’ve only began to scratch the surface of what you’re capable of. With a bit more training, you won’t just be able to shake off my grip, you’ll be able to get past my defences too’

Bobby was about to say something along the lines of ‘that’s not possible’ when he remembered that he’d just managed to transform his own body after a few minutes in a room with this lunatic. Erik turned to leave, bringing their session to an end.

‘I’d say that’s enough for today, wouldn’t you? It’s not every day you find out you can change yourself into a golem’.

Bobby knew what he was about to say next didn’t really matter but he couldn’t hold his tongue regardless.

‘Did you mean what you said before?’ he asked, trying desperately not to sound like a teenager seeking validation. Erik stopped walking and turned to look at Bobby over his shoulder.

‘It doesn’t matter what I think, Bobby. Do you think other people’s opinions have ever stopped _me_ from doing what I wanted?’

‘No?’ Bobby replied, knowing that nothing - including both war and permanent exile – had ever stopped Magneto from going after what he wanted.

‘Then why on earth should it stop you?’

*****

As Erik left the Danger Room he felt a familiar presence inside his head; with some effort, he managed to keep his mental shields down.

_You’re a prick Erik_

_I’m a prick that gets results, Charles_


	11. Suspicious Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles begins to tackle the problem.

As soon as the training session had finished, Charles went to meet with Hank. He found him in his lab as he always was, his blue hulk hunched over an indecipherable concoction of chemicals that meant nothing, even to a man like Charles. Hank had surpassed Charles’ academic achievements years ago.

‘Hank is this a good time?’ Charles said, reluctant to pull him away from whatever he was working on at the moment.

‘Hmmm?’ the other man murmured in reply. Charles patiently waited a moment.

‘Oh!’ Hank exclaimed several seconds later, seemingly coming back to the present. ‘Forgive me Professor, but this breakthrough of Bobby’s is simply _fascinating’_

‘It is?’ Charles prompted, always keen to hear about Hank’s new projects.

‘Yes! His ability to completely rebuild his form goes beyond anything we considered him capable of doing. His control of ice is remarkable in itself - but this really is something else’

‘Do you know how he does it?’ Charles asked, equally as impressed with Bobby’s new-found skill.

‘Not yet. The power of transformation shouldn’t even be _possible_ within the parameters of Bobby’s mutation’ Hank enthused, his excitement clear to see.

‘You mean like Lorna?’ Charles frowned.

Hank stopped what he was doing and turned to peer at Charles over his glasses, a puzzled look on his face.

‘Lorna? What do you mean?’

‘She says she has the same mutation as Erik… but she can create portals _and_ she was able to control the temperature when she first turned up here. She claims Erik can do the same thing…that he taught her how to do it’ Charles said doubtfully.

‘Have you ever seen Magneto create a portal?’ Hank asked without any trace of scepticism, ever the scientist.

‘No – perhaps it’s a secondary mutation?’ he theorised.

Hank considered what Charles had told him before speaking.

‘Secondary mutations are incredibly rare Professor. My own was brought on artificially… the only other known cases are Emma Frost and Kid Omega’.

‘Both of whom live in Genosha. And now Bobby, who agreed to train with Erik’ Charles summarised. 

‘Are you suggesting Magneto is giving people secondary mutations?’ Hank asked cautiously, his blue brow furrowed.

‘I’m not suggesting anything _yet_ ,’ Charles replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, ‘although it would seem somebody is’

‘It’s certainly something I can look into if you’d like me to?’ said Hank, already moving back to the workspace he’d been at earlier.

‘I’d appreciate that, thank you’ Charles said, smiling gratefully, ‘Although that’s not the reason why I’m here. I hear you’d like to take a look at the demon they’ve caught in Genosha?’

‘Yes! Yes, I do. If we’re to set up anything even resembling a realistic training scenario, I’ll need to take a closer look. Although…’, Hank hesitated, setting down a petri dish, ‘This breakthrough with Bobby really does warrant further investigation however…’

Charles watched as the other man obviously warred between which avenue to investigate first. He decided to put him out of his misery.

‘I can speak to Magik if you like. Then I can let you know what I’ve found out’

‘Can you download the questions I want to ask Magik before you speak with her, ‘Hank asked, indicating his temple, ‘or do you want me to write them down?’ Hank replied, clearly doubting Charles’ ability to ask the right questions.

‘I don’t appreciate being compared to a computer Hank but yes, I can take whatever questions you have telepathically and then relay them to Magik’ Charles gently admonished.

‘Sorry Charles’ Hank answered sheepishly, instantly reverting to the timid man of his youth, ‘I’d appreciate that’. He quickly turned back to his work, his eagerness to study Bobby’s mutation was palpable in the air.

‘Oh! You’ll want to take Lorna into Cerebro with you’ Hank added, almost as an afterthought.

‘I will?’ Charles replied, aware that his confusion was plain to see.

‘Her, Frost or Magneto’, said Hank without looking up, ‘It’s illegal for any foreign national to telepathically contact a Genoshan resident, without the express permission of the Royal family. I imagine Lorna would be the least troublesome one to ask of the three’ Hank reasoned.

‘You think I’d be arrested for speaking to my own student?’ Charles asked dubiously.

‘You’re a foreign national Charles. Illyana is currently a Genoshan resident and you’ll be speaking telepathically. It seems Magneto’s distrust of telepaths extends further than his helmet….it does make you wonder about the company he keeps’ Hank mused.

‘How do you know all this Hank?’

‘I always make a point to familiarise myself with international law Charles…especially when the crime carries the death penalty’ Hank looked up from his work, his furred face void of expression, gauging Charles’ reaction.

Erik executed telepaths who tried to speak to Genoshans. Charles didn’t need to think too hard to work out who Erik had been thinking of when he’d passed _that_ law. Charles wished he was surprised. Instead, the leaden feeling that settled in Charles’ stomach was all too familiar.

‘Lorna it is then’ Charles replied, not trying to hide his anger from Hank.

 

***

He found Lorna in her new room in the East Wing sitting on the bed with Rogue, the two of them laughing together. The only sign that this was Lorna’s room at all was a single book on the bedside table. Other than that, the whole room looked untouched. There were no clothes on the floor, no pictures on the walls and not a single thing out of place. As Charles wheeled himself into the room, the two women turned to look at him. Erik’s eyes stared back at him under a mane of neon green hair. Studying the girl’s appearance, Charles saw that Lorna’s lips were naturally green too.

‘Howdy Charles’ Rogue drawled, her smile seeming to get even bigger as she saw who had just come to greet them. ‘Me and Polaris here were just getting reacquainted -  she’s been filling me in on what’s been going on in Genosha whilst ah’ve been away’ the Mississippian finished with a wink.

An uneasy feeling settled over Charles.

‘It was actually Lorna I wished to speak to’ he replied, keeping his eyes fixed on Erik’s daughter. Rogue looked between the two of them.

‘Then ah’ll make myself scarce Prof… ah’m sure Remy is up to no good somewhere anyways’

Rogue gave Lorna a quick hug before lifting herself off the bed and steadily flying through the door Charles had left open. Lorna began laughing again.

‘I can do that too you know!’ she called out.

‘Levitating’s not the same as flying, dahling!’ Charles heard Rogue shout back from the hallway.

Lorna’s expression sobered up as she looked at Charles. She raised herself off the bed, standing to her full height. He didn’t miss the way her fingers twitched at her side – Erik did the same thing in anticipation of a fight. Charles had learned the hard way just how quick metalokinetics could be.

‘What can I do for you Professor?’ the younger Lehnsherr smiled carefully.

‘Were you and Rogue close before she left?’ Charles asked, parrying her question with one of his own. He watched Lorna’s expression as she replied.

‘No, unfortunately. I was just a kid when she left. It’s always good to meet a fellow Genoshan though – especially one who can regale you with embarrassing family stories you’re _definitely_ not supposed to know about’ Lorna shot a quick smile his way.

‘A fellow Genoshan?’ Charles replied, ignoring the temptation to dig deeper.

‘Once a Genoshan, always a Genoshan’ Lorna answered, doing nothing to soothe the feeling of unease Charles had felt at seeing Rogue so comfortable in the younger woman’s presence.

‘I need to speak with Magik’ Charles said, deciding to keep his musings to himself until he had spoken to Hank later. ‘Or rather, Hank needs to speak with Magik, but he’s asked _me_ to question her until he can pry himself away from the lab’

‘Which means you’re using Cerebro and that you need me to get you through’ Lorna concluded.

‘Top marks’ Charles replied condescendingly. Lorna either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t seem to mind. Irritatingly, Charles believed it was the latter.

‘Lead the way then’ Lorna instructed cheerfully.

 

Walking through the lower floors of the X-mansion, Charles and Lorna settled into an oddly comfortable silence. Down here, the walls and floor were covered in titanium rather than solid wood. Harsh, sterile lighting replaced the ambient chandeliers of the upper floors and the hallways that were usually so full of noise in the school were deathly silent on the lowest floor. They passed the medical bays, armoury and hangar zone without speaking a word. Charles could feel the calm nature of Lorna’s surface thoughts, almost radiating an inner peace her father had never possessed. As they reached the entrance to Cerebro, Lorna broke the silence.

‘This place is _beautiful_ ’ she breathed, a child-like smile lighting her face.

‘Really?’ Charles frowned; everyone else he knew was always on edge down here. The heady combination of military grade technology and a cold, clinical environment was usually enough to unbalance even the most level-headed of his students.

‘It’s the metal’, Lorna explained, ‘The machinery…the weapons… I can feel all of them. It’s like their singing to me’

Charles thought to his own reaction when faced with crowds, with masses of consciousnesses bombarding his mind. For him, it was sensory overload – each single psyche vying for his full attention, screaming at him over a cacophony of others. The sensation was almost intolerable if he didn’t keep his mental shields up. Here though, Lorna appeared to revel in the experience of being surrounded by what her mutation craved the most. Charles could feel her stretching out her powers to touch everything she could; not manipulating the metal, just simply tracing over it with her mutation.

‘I’m glad you like it’ Charles replied, surprised to find that he actually meant it.

Charles opened the door to Cerebro without fanfare. Lorna stood behind him as he placed the helmet on his head – a reassuring action in an all too unfamiliar situation. Slowly unfurling his telepathy, he gently reached out to the minds of fellow mutants. Thousands of red lights lit up the room around them, each mind touching Charles’ own… all of them calling out to him. He hesitated before stretching his reach out of North America.

‘So, how does this work?’

‘Can you reach Genosha with your telepathy?’ Lorna asked.

‘It would be a stretch without Cerebro but using this I can reach just about anywhere’ Charles replied, calmly surveying the minds reaching out to him.

‘Anywhere in the world?’ asked Lorna, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

‘Yes’ he replied distractedly, his attention momentarily caught on an unusual mind in Vancouver.

‘That’s…terrifying’ said Lorna after a moment.

Charles let himself laugh in appreciation of Lorna’s honesty; it was something Erik had never been able to admit in all the time Charles had known him. It seemed that Lorna wasn’t playing the role of diplomat now that she was away from home. Charles turned to see her smiling earnestly at Charles’ laughter.

‘Lehnsherrs do tend to think so, yes’ he replied, his usual warmth returning to his voice.

‘I’m not a Lehnsherr, Charles’ Lorna corrected, the smile only leaving her face fleetingly.

‘Oh?’ Charles let his focus slide from the mutant minds he was connected to and focus fully on the young woman behind him.

‘I’ve kept my mother’s name’ she explained, her stern features softening into something a little less certain. ‘So much of who I am now is dictated by who my father is…it’s important for me to remember who my mother was too. My name’s Lorna Sally Dane’

‘Was?’ Charles asked, picking up on her use of the past tense.

‘Mom died in a plane crash along with my step-father when I was young. My powers meant I survived’

Charles sensed there was something Lorna wasn’t telling him, but the waves of old hurt coming from the other mutant kept him from prying any further.

‘I’m so sorry’ Charles replied sincerely. He searched for something that would lighten the mood again.

‘Lorna are you telling me your initials are L.S.D?’ Charles asked, hoping this would work. He was rewarded by a peal of laughter from Erik’s daughter, the previous tension in the room melting away.

‘Explains a lot doesn’t it?’ Lorna smiled.

Charles turned once again to the symphony of minds before him.

‘So how does this work?’

‘Search for the mind of Elizabeth Braddock in Genosha; she’s our designated telepathic contact. When you find her, tell her that I’m with you… _quickly_ ’ replied Lorna, her voice sounding more formal than it had a few moments before.

Charles did as instructed, tentatively scanning the minds of the Genoshan population. Every mind he touched was clearly that of a mutant, the feel of their minds so different in nature to that of humans. Charles allowed himself a brief moment of awe; Erik really had achieved what he dreamt of – a mutant-only nation, free from the touch of humanity. It didn’t feel right to Charles, it never could. A nation built solely on the exclusion of others was a nation doomed to fail – he just hoped he wasn’t around to see it crumble.

Eventually he found a mind that seemed to fit the bill. Elisabeth Braddock was another telepath, a fellow Brit too. It seemed Erik had a type. Cautiously, Charles reached out to her and was met with a ferocity that almost made him withdraw completely.

 _Who the fuck are you?_ a clipped, upper-class voice demanded.

 ‘ _I have Lorna Dane with me’_ Charles replied, speaking both telepathically and out loud.

‘Try to make it sound like less a kidnapping Charles’ Lorna advised, sounding all too much like her father. Charles didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking.

‘ _Princess Lorna of Genosha has given me permission to speak with you_ ’ Charles corrected, feeling more than a little ridiculous.

Elisabeth Braddock didn’t seem convinced; the hostility pouring off her was so strong Charles felt   he could reach out and touch it. The other telepath’s shields were strong, but Charles could catch glimpses of the woman behind them – she the daughter of a knight, a member of the hellfire club and possessed a ruthlessness that rivalled even Erik’s.

 _‘Have her speak to me’_ she demanded, the threat in her voice undoubtedly intentional.  

Without waiting for Lorna’s permission, Charles connected the minds of all three of them in an instant. This way they could speak together, without relying on Charles as a go-between.

 _‘Your Highness?’_ the stranger asked, sensing the connection. Charles noted her voice was considerably less threatening with the possibility of her monarchy being present.

 _‘Hello Betsy -  did you miss me?’_ Lorna teased, clearly happy to speak to this ‘Betsy’.

Charles felt all of the other telepath’s aggression melt away in an instant.

_‘You’ve all been gone for so long Your Highness, we were **almost** starting to worry’_

_‘A pointless exercise Betsy, we’re all fine. Everything is going as planned’_

Charles ignored the flash of resentment he felt at Lorna’s words. Peering over his shoulder, Charles was met with the version of Lorna he had first met the day Erik had returned to the mansion – proud, self-assured and strong. He marvelled at the woman’s ability to ‘switch’ into her royal persona; the woman at his side would not look out of place on a throne. She reminded Charles not of Erik but of Ororo – the two of them shared a self-possession that couldn’t be bought. Charles wondered which Lorna was the real one; the unassuming, playful mutant he had come to know at the mansion, or the monarch at his side.

 _‘The Professor here needs to speak with Magik,’_ Lorna continued _‘they need to see what we’re dealing with’_

 _‘Professor?’_ Betsy sounded alarmed. _‘Did I just swear at the famous Charles Xavier?’_

 _‘You most certainly did, love’_ Charles replied, speaking into the connection for the first time.

 _‘It’s an honour to finally meet you Professor. It’s always good to meet a fellow telepath’_ Betsy sounded amused rather than genuinely regretful, but Charles could feel her respect for him travel through their mental link all the same. He hadn’t thought anyone in Genosha would have held ‘Professor X’ in high esteem. It was a pleasant surprise.

_‘Likewise, Ms Braddock’_

_‘Betsy,’_ Lorna interrupted, cutting their conversation short, _‘the Professor and I need to speak with Magik. I trust you can arrange that we’re not disturbed?’_

 _‘Of course, Your Highness’_ the other telepath replied without retort.

 _‘Thank you. Professor -  close the connection’_ Lorna ordered. Clearly this was to be a business, rather than social, call.

Charles reluctantly closed the connection, finding himself fascinated with both the Genoshan telepath and Lorna’s ability to slip into her royal persona at will. Charles couldn’t remember her so much as asking for something since she’d arrived here, yet Lorna seemed entirely confident in giving commands, in expecting to be obeyed when the situation called for it.

‘Focus on the south east of the island. That’s where the largest military base is -you should find Magik there’

Charles swept his telepathy downwards and found the South of the island to be far less populated than the North; he could only feel hundreds of minds here, in comparison to the thousands he had touched upon before. It wasn’t long before he found Magik; teleporters were notoriously difficult to track but Charles had years of experience in finding Kurt.

‘I’ve found her’ Charles announced.

‘Brilliant. Then my work here is done,’ Lorna replied in a far more relaxed manner. ‘Let me know if you need anything else, Professor’ she added cheerfully.

‘You’re not stopping? You don’t want to…’

‘To listen in?’, Lorna interrupted, raising an eyebrow, ‘Whatever you and Magik have to say to each other is none of my business. You’ve already agreed to help us Professor and I know that won’t change after you’ve seen that _thing._ You’ve given me and dad our privacy whilst in your home, the least I can do is return the favour’ Lorna smiled.

‘Thank you’ Charles answered, finding himself surprised once again by the green haired mutant.

‘Plus’, Lorna added with a sly smile, ‘Betsy will let me know if you _do_ try anything’.

He waited until the Lorna had left the room before reaching out again. Once Cerebro’s doors had closed, he set to work once more.  

_‘Illyana, it’s the Professor’_

Charles felt the Russian jump at his words and sensed the young girl’s worry at his own reaction to what she had done.

_‘Professor! You’re here! I am so sorry I didn’t tell you what was happening but once they told me what was happening though, I couldn’t just walk away. I had to see for myself. Mephisto is a vile, wretched piece of filth who will…’_

_‘Illyana, believe me when I say that not telling me you’ve been kidnapped is the very least of my worries right now’_

_‘How is Piotr? Is he well?’_

_Your brother is fine…he’s worried about you though’ Charles gently admonished._

The waves of worry that were coming from Illyana eased as she took in Charles’ words.

 _‘Why didn’t you tell me though? Why didn’t you tell me what had happened in Genosha?’_ Charles asked.

_‘When Azazel came to me, I didn’t know if what Magneto was saying was true – that Mephisto really was going to attack. This could have just been a one-off after all. You wouldn’t have helped Professor. By the time I knew what was really happening, well, I was already here’_

Charles was about to disagree when he stopped himself. Why would she think he would help Erik? The two of them had been on opposite sides of the war for so many years now; why would anybody think he’d come to Genosha’s aide? Would he have helped? Charles knew the answer. That didn’t make him any more comfortable with it though.

_I’m afraid it’s all water under the bridge now love. Hank needs to take a look at one of these things. If we’ve any chance of beating them we need to know what they are, what they’re made of and what they can do. Erik says he managed to capture one – can you show it to me?_

The professor felt the young woman hesitate, but at what he didn’t know.

_‘Are you sure Professor? I was raised in Limbo – I’ve been around demons nearly my whole life. Demons are…unpleasant to look at though. They’re not for the faint-hearted’_

Charles would have been offended if he couldn’t feel Magik’s concern for him coming through their telepathic connection.

 _‘I’m sure Illyana.  I’ve already seen what happened in Genosha’_ Charles thought back to the memories he had snatched from the Brotherhood when they had first arrived _, ‘Let me have a proper look at what we’re dealing with’_

Charles felt the moment she conceded and let the Professor see through her eyes. They were in a metal room, not too different from the hallway outside Cerebro. Medical equipment was scattered about the room and two empty gurneys were at Magik’s immediate left. It looked as if the room was usually unused, and he couldn’t spot anybody else in the room with them. Were they really letting one of his students just wander about the place?

_Where are we?_

_Genosha’s military base Professor. There’s not much here apart from military equipment and troops, but we managed to scramble these few rooms together when it became clear that the demon was going to be too much of a liability to be kept at the capital._

Charles watched as Illyana took them into the next room.

What he saw them froze him in terror.

Tethered inside a transparent pod was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. Writhing in it’s restraints, a vaguely humanoid creature was gnashing its jaws together, whilst it’s talon like claws slashed manically at its restraints. As Illyana walked closer to it, the demon lunged for her, its obscenely long tongue thrashing the air in front of them. Charles resisted the urge to recoil. As he watched it, the demon’s features twisted and morphed - a flat nose became a long snout, then melted away into a gaping hole. Its skin appeared to melt and harden at whim, slipping away to reveal the bone underneath, before congealing into a hard crust again. The thought of hundreds of these things attacking anywhere made Charles sick to the core. Having seen one in the flesh, he had no desire to see a demon ever again.

_This is a lesser demon, Professor. It’s trouble…but nothing we can’t handle with a bit of preparation._

Preparation, yes, they were going to need a lot of that. Charles eagerly set about asking Illyana questions, keen not to miss out any information that Hank had asked for…all the while trying to ignore the terror the Genoshans must have felt as these things attacked them.


	12. Three Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has a difficult conversation.

Life in Westchester calmed and stilled as the last frosts of winter became the first warming rays of spring. The teachers had started to take some of their classes outside and students spent their breaks playing in the grounds and daringly dipping into the still-cold waters of the outside pools. Lorna had slipped back into the senior classes she had attended before, and both Erik and Emma were regularly seen training students and spending their free time amongst the residents of 1407 Graymalkin Lane. Other mutants passed by them now, no longer going out of their way to avoid crossing their path. It was only Lorna’s bright hair that made her stand out from the group of friends she was seen wandering the halls with.  

Charles and Erik spoke frequently about the other mutant’s progress and shared ideas about the next best course of action. Afterwards, Erik would return to his room, leaving Charles alone in his study, to re-join Emma at the end of the day. They would nod at each other as they passed in the hallway; sometimes Charles was sure the other man was going to say something more, the surface of his mind bubbling with uncertainty. Each time the moment passed though, and the two men went about their separate ways.

***

Erik left the mansion at five o clock precisely. His morning run had become something of a ritual since regaining his youth and the eight-mile track around the grounds were a perfect way to get his body working at the start of the day. Each footfall pounded the dirt track rhythmically as he ran, letting his mind switch off and focus on only what was around him. These were rare moments of peace. Just under an hour later, as made his way up the steep grass bank on his way back to the mansion, he spotted a figure sitting on the crest of the hill before him. He slowed to a steady jog and felt his lungs burn as they took in each breath. Wiping the sweat from his face, he made his way over to the intruder of his morning routine. He’d found that typically he had at least another hour before anyone else got out of bed, with Charles himself not usually rising until nine o clock. He’d never had been a morning person.

Moving closer, he recognised the figure as Ernst, a young mutant with the appearance of a very frail old woman. Erik didn’t know if her appearance was part of her mutation or something altogether more human. Nonetheless, he’d made a point of asking about the girl; she was eleven years old, painfully shy and had superhuman strength. Erik was about to ask her what she was doing out so early when the young girl spoke.

‘Good morning Your Highness’ she almost whispered, not looking away from the grass she nervously pulling at.

The use of his title didn’t shock Erik the way it used to. It still didn’t sit entirely comfortably, but he didn’t suppose it ever would. In his mind, he would always be the angry young boy from Dusseldorf.

‘Good Morning Ernst’ he replied, nodding his head to her as he made his way past.

‘You know my name?’ she asked, a childlike sense of wonder clear on her haggard face.

‘Of course,’ Erik smiled, ‘I make a point of learning the names of every mutant I meet’ Erik lied.

‘But we haven’t met?’ Ernest replied, the question in her voice another sign of her hidden youth.

Erik made a snap decision and joined the girl on the still-dewy grass. Crossing his legs and leaning towards her, he could feel the damp soak through his jogging bottoms, although he paid it no mind.

‘I was hoping we’d be able to. It’s good to meet you Ernst, my name is Erik’ he said, extending his hand.

A blush so red it rivalled even Charles’ spread across the girl’s face, before she tentatively shook his hand in return. He felt the tissue-like texture of her skin and ignored the way her hand slightly trembled in his.

‘Hi’ Ernst all but squeaked. Erik released her hand and smiled.

‘What are doing out here so early? You’ll be getting cold … and wet’ he added, pointing to the soggy grass they were now both sitting on. Ernst didn’t reply and instead started playing instead with the buttons on her blazer. Erik let her work through whatever internal dilemma she was going through. He knew she’d answer – his title meant that people always did now. It could make life dull sometimes; he was never ignored, never criticised, never shouted at. Emma and Lorna were the only exceptions to that rule. Well… until he’d come to Westchester, of course.

‘It’s the other girls… they’ve been making fun of me’ Ernst admitted after a few moments.

‘What about?’ he asked, not missing a beat.

Another blush spread across the girl’s face, the deep crimson looking out of place on her haggard face.

‘You can tell me Ernst, I won’t laugh’ Erik soothed.

‘Promise?’

‘I promise’ he assured, reminded of all the years he’d spent reassuring Lorna when she had been teased for her appearance. The fact that the children involved in her torment were still alive was proof that he did actually possess some self-restraint.

‘I said I wanted a pony’ the girl sighed, ‘and they laughed and said only little girls want ponies anymore’

For a moment Erik longed to have the troubles of a child.

‘Well, they must think I’m a little girl then’ Erik answered.

Ernst frowned without embarrassment, clearly not understanding what Erik had said.

‘I have a horse back home in Genosha’ he explained. He watched as Ernst’s face lit up, clearly excited to have something in common.

You do?!’ the young girl exclaimed.

‘I do’ Erik chuckled, ‘I ride her every evening. Sometimes my daughter comes with me too’

‘Lorna has a horse?!’

Erik smiled at the girl’s astonishment and nodded.

‘What are their names?’

‘Binky is mine and Artax is Lorna’s’ Erik replied, managing to keep his expression neutral.

‘Those are funny names’ Ernst declared, scrunching up her nose.

‘They are’ Erik replied cryptically. There was no way he was admitting to an eleven-year-old girl he’d picked Binky’s name from one of his favourite books.

Erik hesitated before looking around them. He couldn’t see anyone else in sight and when he reached out with his powers, he couldn’t feel anybody around either. As his understanding of his mutation had grown, he’d realised that everyone emitted their own tiny electromagnetic field. It wasn’t much, but if he concentrated, he could locate people in the way a basic radar could.  For now it seemed the coast was clear.

‘Do you want to see a magic trick? Erik asked, arching one eyebrow.

The young girl nodded enthusiastically, the talk of horses seemingly overriding her reserved nature. With an enthusiasm he hadn’t felt since leaving home, Erik cast out his powers into the ground below, looking for any metal that he could find. Almost immediately, lost coins, watches, jewellery and native metal all answered his call and began working their way through the earth to get to him. Erik caught Ernst watching on in wonder as he started to mould the metal that came out to reach them. Extending his reach by a mile, Erik set about smelting all the pieces he could find together. Before long, a large brass-looking sphere was levitating in front of them. Once he had enough material to work with, he stopped his search and focussed his mutation on the floating ball of molten metal. Slowly, legs and a head emerged from the metallic mass, then a tail and a mane. Erik didn’t have enough metal to make a mount the size of the one he had back home, but the creation in front of him was roughly the size of a large pony. Narrowing his eyes, he took care to finish the ‘pony’; adding eyelashes to its eyes and using copper to create individual strands in its mane. A few moments later, satisfied with his work, he turned to look at Ernst.

‘It’s a pony!’ she screeched excitedly, jumping from the grass to jog towards Erik’s handiwork. Without moving his hands, he made the bronze pony whinny and paw at the ground it was standing on. He was rewarded with another cry of delight as Ernst began stroking it, either completely forgetting or not caring, that it wasn’t actually real.

‘Have you ever ridden before?’ Erik asked, keeping the pony moving as if it were alive.

‘I used to have lessons before …’ A quick flash of hurt shot across her wrinkled face.

Erik didn’t need to ask what the girl meant. Before her powers manifested, before she was disowned, before she was sent here to spend the rest of her days as an outcast. A flare of anger swelled up inside him.

‘Well, it’s about time you had a refresher then. Hop on’ he replied, swallowing down the rage he felt on Ernst’s behalf.

‘Really?!’

‘Really’ Erik smiled warmly.

He helped Ernst onto his creation, subtly moulding the metal to help her stay on-board. He needn’t have worried though; Ernst was a natural. Her posture was impeccable; straight back, head up, arms at right angles and her heels down. Somebody had spent a lot of money teaching her how to ride so well. Erik concentrated on moving the metal whichever way the girl asked it to go, all the while moving the horse as realistically as he could from memory. It was easy work and a welcome break from the monotony of training; Erik was particularly proud of the way he managed to make the muscles of the pony move in synch with its motion. After taking the girl through walk, trot and canter – all the while being barraged by squeals of excitement that didn’t actually bother him in the slightest – Erik decided to up the ante.

‘Tell me Ernst, can you fly?’

‘No Your Highness … I’m just strong’ she replied, without taking her eyes from the direction she was heading in.

‘Would you like to?’ Erik grinned, running his hand through his sweat-slickened hair. 

Ernst looked disbelievingly back at him – he decided to take that as a yes.

‘Right, hold on to its mane’ Erik instructed, concentrating on loosening the metal there so Ernst could find somewhere to grab onto, ‘but don’t worry if you let go, I’ll have you.’

Erik rose in the air alongside the pony, with Ernst on its back. A massive, unreserved smile spread across her face.

‘Is this too high?’ Erik asked, stopping their ascent at about 50 feet.

‘Are you sure you can catch me if I fall?’

‘Absolutely’ he assured her.

‘Then please can we go higher?’

Grinning at the young mutant’s courage, Erik levitated them up to 100 feet. This was the height he preferred to ‘fight’ at - high enough to see both what was happening on the ground below and the sky around you, without being so high up that he missed anything. Logan also told him that it was the highest he could be and still be heard by troops on the ground. At Ernst’s approval, Erik began flying the pony through the air around them. He made sure it still manoeuvred the same way as it did on the land and began moving its mane and tail as if they were being blown by the breeze, simply because he could.

Half an hour later and the two of them were back on solid ground. Erik allowed Ernst to canter back to the front of the mansion as he levitated alongside her. He remembered doing the same thing with Lorna as she was learning to ride. Ernst reluctantly dismounted and gingerly thanked Erik, her shyness returning once again. As he melted the metal once more, and sent it back down into the earth it had come from, Ernst stopped on her way up the mansion’s front steps.

‘Your Highness?’

Erik considered telling the girl to call him by his name but was stopped by Emma’s familiar reprimand - ‘ _what is the point of having a crown if won’t even let people call you by your proper title? You are King Magnus, are you not?’_

‘Yes?’ he gritted out.

‘Can any mutant live in Genosha?’

‘Any and every mutant Ernst. You yourself have a home there waiting for you, if you decide that’s what you want’ Erik replied sincerely, seeing the question for what it was.

The other mutant flashed him a timid smile and made her way back inside.

***

By the time he made his way back to his room, avoiding the main hallways and instead making his way up the old servant’s staircase at the rear of the building, Emma was up and dressed. She sat in front of the ornate dressing table at the window grooming her already immaculate hair. An icy vision in white, she sat in direct contrast to the old-world glamour around her. Emma belonged in cutting-edge luxury apartments and clubs that were so exclusive the press didn’t even know about them yet – not in an old Georgian mansion in the middle of nowhere.

‘You’re going to have to tell him’ Emma said abruptly into the silence of the room without looking at him.

‘Hmm?’ Erik murmured, stripping off his t-shirt and dew-soaked bottoms.

‘Xavier’ Emma continued, placing her hairbrush down on the table, ‘If you don’t tell him, I will. His brooding is giving me the most chronic headache’.

‘Emma, I haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re on about’ Erik replied, determinedly making his way to the en-suite before she could say anymore.

‘Oh yes you bloody well do’ she continued undeterred, ‘And don’t think you’re walking away from me when I’m speaking to you Lehnsherr’

So much for the shower, Erik lamented. Throwing down the towel he had picked up, he saw her facing him sternly with her arms crossed over her white bodice - looking every-inch the supervillain the papers made her out to be.

‘I’m not having this conversation right now’ Erik warned, knowing that ignoring Emma would only make the inevitable argument worse.

‘You have to tell Xavier that this…’ Emma gestured the space between them, ‘…isn’t real. If I have to hear him pine after you **one** more time it will be just about all that I can take. He may act like a gentleman but the thoughts he has about me are _ghastly_ ’

‘And most probably well deserved’ he retorted, jumping to Charles’ defence without thinking. ‘If Charles is pining for someone, it certainly isn’t me and for the last time, you are NOT supposed to be listening in to people at all.’ Erik said firmly. If her were speaking with anybody else, that would have been the end of the matter.

‘Bollocks’ Emma snapped back, not intimidated in the slightest, ‘You don’t have to be a telepath to see the way he looks at you. The way you **_both_** look at each other…’

‘Emma’ Erik warned, looking her straight in the eye. She was getting dangerously close to an argument the two of them had had countless times before. He was dimly aware that the metal in the room had begun to shake.

‘Don’t Emma me’ the telepath carried on, clearly possessing no regard for her own well-being, ‘I don’t even know why this is still an issue for you Erik, I really don’t. You’re the sodding ‘master of magnetism’, why do you care if people know you’re ga…’

‘I’m not’ Erik snapped stubbornly, crossing his arms against his bare chest.

‘Why must you continue to insult my intelligence?! You haven’t taken a partner in all the time I’ve known you. I’ve watched on as some of the most beautiful women in the world have thrown themselves at you – I should know Erik, I was one of them…’ 

‘Low self-esteem really isn’t a problem for you, is it?’

 ‘…and none of them have so much as raised a smile. Instead, you insist on living in a sham marriage and denying yourself even the slightest bit of human happiness’ Emma strode towards him, finger outstretched, clearly getting into the swing of her own argument, ‘… _and_ I’ve caught you eyeing up Logan when you thought nobody was looking’

For a moment Erik was left speechless. He hadn’t ever…had he? Seeing his expression, Emma briefly took pity on him.

‘Oh, don’t beat yourself up about it. Everybody eyes up Logan, you’re hardly the first’ she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Erik moved away from his wife and took to striding around the all-too-small room, knowing he must resemble a cornered animal. He didn’t care.

‘I’m. I’m not…It’s not as simple as that’ he stuttered uncharacteristically, refusing to make eye contact.

‘Oh honey’ Emma replied, stepping in the way of his pacing. She tentatively placed a cold hand on his arm. ‘I never said it was simple. When you were young, the first time round, things were different back then – I get that. Seeing how gay men were treated in the camps…. knowing what would happen if they found out about you…I can’t imagine what that was like. And Shaw’ Emma paused, appearing to gauge Erik’s reaction, ‘I know what he did to you Erik, I know what he made you do. Please don’t think I’m downplaying any of that sugar, because I never would.’ Emma’s tone was soft and comforting in a way she never let the rest of the world hear. ‘Against my better judgement Erik, you’re my oldest, closest friend. Believe it or not, I do just want to see you happy’

‘I know that’ Erik murmured in reply, letting himself lean into his friend’s touch. Emma knew him in a way no-one else did, not even Charles. He’d seen all her weaknesses, all her flaws – just like she had seen his. Despite this, she’d stayed by his side all these years, living the lie and putting everything on hold – her life, her safety, her happiness – all for his benefit. Erik idly wondered if she’d found somebody; it was bound to happen sooner or later.

‘But people’s attitudes have changed – the laws have changed. The camps are closed now, and you killed Shaw. You’re not just a king, Erik, you’re **Magneto**. Who in their right mind would _dare_ say anything to you now?’

‘I can think of at least three of our closest neighbours who would have me executed, Emma’ he replied firmly. ‘It’s not just about who I can beat in a war anymore…. It’s about politics, diplomacy… _international relations_ ’ he continued, his last words dripping with contempt.

‘You can’t mean the Somalians?! Erik, please, you can’t be serious -  they bloody love you. As for Sudan and Nigeria…well, they’ll come around’ she crooned, moving back across the room to put on her shoes.

‘Or they won’t. The last thing I need is the Sundanese IADF on our borders calling for my crucifixion’ Erik deadpanned.

‘Or they won’t,’ Emma conceded, ‘but if that’s the case Erik just go and wage another war; I do so know how you enjoy those’

‘Emma, you’re being flippant’ he complained.

‘And _you’re_ starting to sound more and more like Lorna everyday’

Having finished typing up her shoes, Emma’s focus zoned in on her husband once again. ‘Look, I’m not expecting you to be ‘out and proud’ Erik but I **do** expect you to be brave enough to follow your own advice. I heard your speech to Bobby the other day. What was that you were saying about not caring what anybody else thinks?’ Emma reasoned coolly.

‘I **don’t** care what anybody else thinks’ Erik growled.

‘Then call this off’ Emma replied, holding him to his word. ‘We’ve talked about doing it so many times Erik. If you’re not going to do it at what-may-be the end of the world as we know it, when will you? We’re far away from home, Charles is here, and this may very well be your last ever chance with him… You don’t have to tell the world anything you don’t want to, but for the love of God please tell your Professor to stop giving me a migraine’

‘What about Lorna?’ he questioned out loud.

‘Sugar,’ Emma smiled in spite of the situation, ‘she’s known even longer than I have’

Erik smirked, reluctantly knowing that it was true. He couldn’t believe he was even considering this. Their marriage had been convenient for the both of them for so long – Emma got the kid of power even old money couldn’t buy and Genosha was ruled by a stable monarchy, without the constant speculation over his own personal relationships. But Genosha had been established for decades now, it was flourishing; a traditional monarchy wasn’t essentially necessary to hold it together anymore. Not that he was ever going to abdicate from the throne, he’d fought too hard for too long to ever do that. Mein Gott, he’d earnt that crown. But Emma…he didn’t need to keep her trapped any longer; she’d been in a marriage of convenience far longer now than either of them had imagined. Plus, if he didn’t agree to this willingly now, how long would it be until she forced his hand? He supressed a shiver at the thought.

‘Penny for your thoughts’ Emma teased, breaking his internal monologue.

‘It will have to be me that files for divorce’ Erik sighed.

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain the grin that spread across her face. ‘Well, _obviously._ Heaven forbid the mighty Magneto be the heartbroken one in all of this. Erik, I will ugly-cry in front of the paparazzi if that’s what it takes’

‘Have I really been that bad of a husband all this time?’ Erik scoffed, not quite managing to keep the pain from his voice and hating himself for it.

Emma’s once-triumphant expression fell from her face instantly and was replaced by something tender and warm.

‘You have been the very best, darling’ she said sincerely, stroking his face as she spoke. If Erik didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he saw her eyes well with tears. Eternity stretched before them, neither one of them willing to move and end this last chapter. Erik promised himself that no matter what happened from here, he would never forget the feel of her touch on his cheek or the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

‘Well’ Erik said, clearing his throat, ‘I suppose I have a press statement to write’


	13. Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles hears the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief mention of past abuse and some not so brief instances of internalised homophobia. 
> 
> Also, there's a joke in this chapter about Charles assuming the worst which absolutely isn't mine. I found it on Tumblr, it made me laugh, so I've whacked it in.

It had been an odd but uneventful Wednesday. Charles had taken four classes that day, covering for one of Ororo’s as she trained with Erik in the early afternoon. He was disappointed to miss the session itself – Ororo’s lightning and Erik’s control of the magnetic spectrum made for some fascinating possibilities – but he was easily distracted by the thought of teaching minds he hadn’t encountered before. Storm’s students had enjoyed the novelty of having the headmaster take their class and Charles was happy to see how easily they engaged with the literature – Chaucer was not for everyone. With the exception of one joker asking Charles if he ‘could just voodoo the information into their brains’, the class had gone swimmingly.

Charles couldn’t help noticing the glances some of the children made his way though, when they thought he wasn’t looking. Nothing sinister, but rather like they were gossiping about him - it brought back some memories of his childhood he’d sooner forget. It wasn’t just the students though; when he’d made his way down to the kitchen at lunch, he’d found his X-Men doing exactly the same. As soon as he glanced away from them, they’d begin muttering amongst themselves. Jean looked particularly shame-faced when he’d caught her whispering to Kitty. Charles was not an anxious man, but it was enough to give even the most reasonable man a dose of paranoia.

He didn’t crack until that evening, when he saw Remy staring at him unblinkingly in the common room.

‘That’s it! Have I grown another bloody head or something?!’ Charles snapped uncharacteristically.

‘Say what now?’ Remy asked, still gazing unashamedly at him.

‘Everywhere I turn today, somebody is either staring at or sodding whispering about me. I swear if somebody doesn’t tell me what it is you’re all finding so damn interesting, I’ll drag the information out of you’

‘Naw, you haven’t got to be threatening Gambit with your telepathic gris-gris Professor. Folks just want to know what you make of it, is all’

‘What I make of _what?_ ’ Charles asked exasperatedly.

‘The news’ Remy explained as if to a child.

‘What news? Nobody’s told me anything’ Charles said, feeling a sense of trepidation creep over him. If it was good news, people wouldn’t be whispering about it. Plus, Erik was in the house, so the chances of any news being good were slim to none. Charles watched as Remy’s face became that of a doctor, about to deliver the worst-case scenario to a patient.

‘It’s not for Gambit to say’ he concluded, reaching for the remote that had been haphazardly thrown on one of the old sofas, ‘Here, see for yourself’.

The TV flicked on at Remy’s command and the news came onto the screen, which was an oddity in itself – the students didn’t usually take to keeping abreast of national events in their free time. Charles trepidation turned to morbid dread as he saw Erik’s face plastered all over what appeared to be todays’ breaking news. Charles scanned the screen for the words ‘casualties’, ‘dead’ or ‘attack’ and came up empty. Charles tried not to panic and instead listened to what the newsreader was saying.

‘Breaking news today as King Magnus files for divorce. In what has already been described as the ‘Clash of the Titans’, the Genoshan leader has announced his separation from Emma Frost earlier today. The pair were married in a lavish ceremony that was televised around the world and watched by over a billion people. Royal commentators are describing today’s news as ‘an unhappy ending to a fairy-tale marriage’. The Queen consort is believed to have already left the palace and has not been seen since the news broke. Despite their separation, King Magnus will continue to carry out his royal and constitutional duties. Let’s go to Keiko in Genosha for more….’

What the actual **fuck**. Erik was getting divorced? Charles allowed himself to reel for a moment and watched the images as they appeared on the screen. Erik and Emma back when they first announced their courtship… on their wedding day…on royal visits; never once looking anything but the happy couple Charles (and the world) had believed them to be. Charles looked on as reporters fought to film Erik leaving his palace in Hammer Bay. Credit where it was due; Raven gave a perfect performance as the Genoshan king. She played the stoic, self-possessed ruler to perfection.

‘Storm had her tete-a-tete with ol’ big bad earlier today but no one’s seen him since. ‘Ro said he didn’t say a word about it anyways’ Remy said, breaking the silence.

Shit, where was Erik? Charles cast his powers out and scanned the building for him. With a sigh of relief, he found him in his bedroom rather than halfway back to Genosha, as Charles had almost expected him to be. His relief was short-lived however, as with a start, Charles realised Emma was in the exact same room. If this was to be the ‘clash of the titans’, it sure as hell wasn’t happening in _his_ house. Hurriedly making his excuses, Charles set about making his way to the East Wing before things started exploding.

Just what the hell had happened between the two of them? They looked for all the world like the perfect couple; as intimidating as they were powerful, as beautiful as they were cold. Charles thought back to the way Erik had spoken to Emma when they’d first arrived - had she finally had enough of Erik speaking to her the way he did? No – the news had said it was Erik who had filed for divorce. Had something happened whilst they were here? If so – why was the mansion still completely intact? Erik wasn’t exactly known for his anger management strategies.

When he arrived outside Erik’s bedroom door, Charles realised with horror that he couldn’t ‘feel’ Erik anymore. Instead, all he could touch was a cold, dead void where Erik should be. Knowing what that meant, Charles started pounding on the locked door, grateful that none of his students were around to see him in such a state of panic.

‘Erik! Open this bloody door right now!’

Charles heard voices coming from the room and a few moments later, heard the locks as they were opened. Rushing into the room, the scene that met Charles took him by surprise. Erik wasn’t wearing his helmet. Instead, he was wearing the most beautiful crown Charles had ever seen. Thick bands of gold and silver interwove themselves around the other man’s head, rising into a crest at his forehead. Amongst the metal waves were startling red gems – garnets, at a guess – interspersed at seemingly random intervals. The crown was at once both delicate and masculine and didn’t allow Charles to read a single surface emotion, let alone an actual thought. He’d never seen Erik in it before, he was always seen in his helmet; and the regal aura coming off the other man did something to Charles that he wasn’t quite prepared to admit to himself. He didn’t think he’d ever really thought of Erik as a King until that moment.

Emma was reclining on the chaise-lounge in front of the window and didn’t look as if she had a care in the world. Dressed in her trademark white barely-there attire, her appearance was at odds with her relaxed posture. Did she even own clothes that covered her backside? It wasn’t until the last moment that Charles realised Erik was in front of a computer, which had been set up on an old antique desk opposite the bed. Looking at the screen, Charles was met by the sight of another Erik staring back at him, helmet firmly atop his head. Raven.

‘Can I help you Charles?’ the real Erik asked, his voice both formal and warm. He still managed to make Charles’ name sound like a secret only the two of them were privy to.

The absurdity of the situation hit him like a hammer. What on earth was he doing here? Erik was a King – why on earth would he need to talk to Charles about his personal life? Why had he thought it was anything at all to do with him? He felt his cheeks burn at his own arrogance and looked on as the eyes of Erik, Emma and Raven seemed to bore into him. He turned to leave.

‘Nothing, nothing. I’m sorry…it can wait’ he mumbled, not making eye contact. He didn’t want to see the looks on their faces.

‘No’ a clipped voice replied. ‘You stay Charles, it’s about time you and Erik had a chance to chat’

Charles looked up to see Emma standing up and making her way to the door, a smile on her face. She did not look like a woman who had just been told her husband was leaving her.

‘I’ve been cooped up in here all day. I need to get out and stretch my legs…maybe traumatise a student or two’ she grinned.

‘Emma…’ Erik glowered, whilst still holding the door open for her.

‘Oh, I’m only having a little fun’ she teased, swinging her hips as she left the room.

‘Mystique,’ Erik said, addressing the computer screen, ‘we’ll pick this up later. I take it you have everything you need for the next few days?’

Yes, Your Highness. Goodbye Charles’

It was the first time she’d spoken to him in years and was made all the more confusing by the fact she was wearing Erik’s face. The other man closed the computer and pointed towards the chess board at the far side of the room. ‘Ignore Emma, she has a warped sense of humour. Play a game with me’ he said. Charles couldn’t make out if it was an invitation or a command.

Once they were both seated, Charles playing white and Erik playing black as they always did, Charles couldn’t shake the unease he felt at not being able to reach out to the other mind in the room. It was like being blindfolded or handcuffed, a vital sense suddenly stripped away from you. He didn’t know how the rest of the world managed it, navigating their way through life without feeling the reassuring presence of those around you.

‘I thought you were wearing your helmet when I first arrived. I couldn’t feel you’ Charles began, moving a pawn into position. Erik reached for the crown on his head and ran his fingertips across it.

‘It works the same way’ he explained, mirroring Charles’ move and pushing forward a pawn. ‘And that explains why you almost hammered your way through my door’ he added.

‘In my experience Erik, bad things tend to happen when you wear that blasted thing’

‘Tell me Charles, why must you insist of thinking the worst of me?’ Erik replied without any real ire in his voice. Charles searched his words for irony. No, no, it seemed the man was serious.

‘I find it saves time’ he deadpanned.

Erik barked out a sharp laugh. Shaking his head, he slid another pawn into position.

‘I’ve not seen you in it before….it suits you’ said Charles, finding his gaze pulled once again to the circlet atop Erik’s head.

Erik paused to look at Charles before assessing the chess board once more.

‘Thank you’, he smiled, ‘I only wear it when on duty and never when in the public eye. It’s pretty but it’s hardly a show of strength’ Erik said dismissively.

‘But you were just talking to Raven’ Charles replied, the question clear in his tone.

‘Whilst acting in a royal capacity. And trust me, there is no ‘just talking’ when it comes to your sister’, he smirked, ‘The woman would have my throat and my crown if I gave her half the chance’

Erik hesitated before speaking again. ‘Emma wanted me to wear it on our wedding day, but I refused, insisted I wore my helmet instead. Genosha needed a fighter back then, not just a King’.

This time it was Charles’ turn to falter, deciding on which words to pick next.

‘I’m sorry Erik. I’m so very sorry’ he answered simply, feeling completely out of his depth – the two of them hadn’t spoken properly for so long. He had no idea Erik had been unhappy.

‘Don’t be,’ Erik replied firmly, ‘not everything is always as it first appears Charles’

A sudden flash of anger hit him like a thunderbolt. He should have known – the pair of them were lying.

‘You’re not actually getting divorced’ he spat out, painfully away that he was dangerously close to sounding jealous. ‘I should have guessed it another one of your lies. Are you out of your damn mind?  It’s all over the national news, for Christ’s sake’

‘We _are_ getting divorced and it is very, very real’ Erik answered earnestly, his gaze not leaving Charles’. Charles returned the German’s stare with one of his own.

‘Then what am I missing?’ he asked cautiously, not completely certain he wanted to know the answer.

Erik toyed with the chess pieces in front of him, twirling the polished oak between his fingers. ‘Our relationship…our marriage… it was one of convenience Charles. Both of us have decided it’s no longer in our best interests to keep up the façade’

Charles sat dumbfounded for a minute, a million questions swirling round his head. It didn’t sound plausible; Erik was hardly the sort of man to take the easy option in anything – not that he imagined for a second that being married to Emma was what anyone would class as easy. Charles didn’t need to read Erik’s mind to know the man was genuinely concerned about his reaction to what he’d just told him.

‘Erik…why?’ was all he could get out.

‘Emma had just been disowned by her family after finding out she was a mutant; when they found out she was a telepath however, they upped the ante. The thought that she could have been manipulating them all this time pushed them over the edge – they put a bounty on her head. She took a chance and came to see me in Genosha. Emma needed security and influence – the two things I could provide in abundance. In turn, she had contacts and old-money knowledge that even royalty can’t buy’

Emma’s treatment at the hands of her family didn’t come as a surprise to Charles – although it did go someway to explaining her cold demeanour. Even humans who were tolerant of mutants usually baulked at the idea of a telepath; they were just too powerful. To be a telepath in an already bigoted household didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Yes, but why did _you_ do it?’ Charles asked, getting to the root of his confusion. Erik wouldn’t have willingly signed marriage papers for Emma’s contacts, no matter how powerful they were.

For what seemed like an eternity, Erik didn’t respond.

‘Can I trust you Charles?’ Erik all but whispered, just as Charles was about to give up on the subject.

Charles thought about his answer before replying.

‘Always’ he replied, hoping he wasn’t making a promise he couldn’t keep.

Without speaking, Erik slowly lifted his hands and took off his crown, laying it on the table between them. Charles picked up on the waves of anxiety pouring off Erik and reluctantly stopped himself from delving any further. He watched as the other man visibly moved from being King Magnus into the man Charles knew; the sight reminding him of Lorna’s ability to do the same. Alarmingly, Charles saw how Erik’s hands were shaking almost imperceptibly. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Erik afraid. He sent out a reassuring wave with his telepathy, himself growing anxious at the sight of Erik’s distress. Erik appeared to come to a decision and looked Charles directly in the eye, his gun-metal grey as piercing as it always had been.

‘Look’ Erik asked, pointing at his temple, ‘…please’

Charles waivered before doing what Erik asked. Whilst they may have spoken telepathically these past few weeks, he hadn’t been inside the other man’s head since 1983; the year Erik had tragically lost his family. He both wanted, and didn’t want, to know what had changed in that time. Seeing Erik’s apprehension, he gently breached the steel of Magneto’s mind. He moved past the surface thoughts and emotions, which he could read without trying anyway, and looked for the part of Erik’s psyche that held memories of Emma Frost. Before long he had found what he wanted; a tangled plethora of wrought iron, each rod barring entry into the memories behind. As gently as he could, Charles began removing the iron rods that barred his path, careful not to add to Erik’s fear.

On moving the last piece, Charles was bombarded with a stampede of images. A boy he didn’t recognise laughing at a joke Erik had made in the streets of Germany… pink triangles… starving, humiliated men… a naked Erik screaming in terror at the depravities Shaw subjected him to …a young Charles pulling Erik from the water…. the two of them training at the mansion…. another man Charles didn’t know, sneaking through a servant’s entrance to see Erik in Genosha.

Some of the memories were tinged with lust, some with love, but all of them were tarnished with a shame and self-hatred that took Charles’ breath away. One last image stopped Charles before he retreated entirely, both horrified and humiliated at what he had found. It was a memory of him, not as a young man, but as the elderly disabled man he really was. The two of them were in Charles’ study, going over the schematics for a new Cerebro. Charles recognised the memory instantly – it had been the last time the two of them had seen each other before Erik attacked New York. He had been helping Charles rebuild after a particularly nasty run-in with Nathaniel Essex. Erik’s memory of him wasn’t as he remembered himself however - through Erik’s eyes his skin seemed to glow, and his eyes sparkled in a way Charles was sure they never had done in real life. Charles felt the untempered love Erik felt for him in that moment and his relief that Charles was safe and well after what Mr Sinister had done. It was so strong that Charles could almost ignore the self-loathing Erik felt for feeling that way about him.

Charles took a shuddering breath as he left Erik’s mind, the weight of what he’d seen lay heavy on his chest. Erik wouldn’t meet his gaze.

‘You see’ the German murmured quietly, ‘You may not be mine anymore Charles, but I always have and always will be yours’

‘Erik…’ Charles whispered, pressing his lips together, ‘I can’t…I just … can’t. There may have been a time – there _was_ a time – when I was willing to try to turn the straight man…’

‘I’m not straight’ Erik all but choked out. The effort it took him to just say those words confirming what Charles had already seen.

‘I know old friend, trust me, I know’ Charles heard his own voice break, ‘but I still won’t. Too much has happened and there is too much at stake now. Erik…if I’m to even _try_ to convince the rest of the world to help us, I can’t be seen to be compromised by my feelings for you’

A terrible silence filled the room. Erik didn’t move.

‘I’ve always been yours Erik, but I’m afraid that’s just not enough anymore’ Charles finished, hating himself for every word.

In one fluid motion Erik swept to his feet and away from the chess table. Charles couldn’t bring himself to turn to watch him leave.


	14. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life happened so this took a LOT longer than expected! A note real quick; every 'power' used in this chapter is comic canon, even if my understanding of the science behind it isn't! I've always been frustrated with how the movies play down Erik's mutation so I decided to rectify it :)

Emma listened to the sounds of her heels clacking against the floor as she made her way to check on Erik; she enjoyed the way it sounded on the old parquet floor and enjoyed watching the few students who were up this late scurry out of her way as soon as they heard them even more. It wasn’t much but you have to take what you can get; she may not be Queen anymore but at least she could still send teenagers running with the sound of her Louboutins.

The whole day had been arduous and the worst of it was far from over. For now, the media coverage had been fairly dry – just the facts and a few statements about how surprised people were. She knew how fast that would change though; soon they’d be chomping at the bit to find a hidden scandal, trying to uncover an even murkier past than the one she showed to the world. They would be vicious and hateful and unforgiving. The only other alternative was to blame Erik for the divorce and no mutant with any sense of self-preservation was going to do that. No, she would have to bear the brunt of Genosha’s contempt. What she didn’t tell anyone is that she would do so willingly and a hundred times over for Erik. He was the most ruthless, unscrupulous bastard she’d ever known but he’d taken her in at a time when she had no-one and nothing and turned her life into more than she could have ever dreamt of. She now had the financial, social and political clout to ensure no-one, but the most demented would-be assassin would come after her again. She was as safe as she ever would be. Emma only hoped that Erik would manage to find some light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how much he objected, she didn’t want to face the possibility that he’d spend the rest of his reign alone. Another sixty years in an empty bed.

Emma was surprised to find him in the common room with both Lorna and Peter. It wasn’t unheard of for Erik to speak to his son but the two were so unalike they were both usually happy to keep a respectful distance from each other. She begrudgingly had to commend Xavier for that at least; even after Peter had ‘gone public’ about his relationship to Magneto, he’d never made the boy feel any less than welcome here at Westchester – not that Peter was a boy any longer; he was one of the world’s most powerful mutants, as any child of Erik’s was bound to be. If Emma were to guess, she’d say that Peter had come to comfort his father after hearing about their divorce. She wouldn’t pry but it wasn’t respect for the family’s privacy that kept her telepathy at bay. Unlike Xavier, Emma had never let herself forget just how dangerous a man Erik was – the Professor may have heard about his crimes on the news, but Emma had been at his side whilst he committed them. He was impulsive, quick to anger and slow in his punishments. Erik may not be wearing his helmet anymore, but Emma knew what the price would be for using her gift on him or his family; every telepath in Genosha did. Silently she slipped away, allowing the House of M their moment together.

***

 

A huge burst of electromagnetic energy tore Charles from his sleep. Instantly, he shot out his telepathy to find the source – it was Erik, on the playing fields. Before long an entire cacophony of mutations lashed out in return; Ororo’s lightning, Scott’s lasers, Jean’s telekinesis. Charles’ breathe came quickly as he hurtled towards the fields as fast as his damned chair would allow. Two agonisingly slow minutes later he arrived at the commotion on the fields. With horror, he realised what he was looking at.  Erik was attacking every one of his X-Men…and his team were fighting back, hard. As if that wasn’t enough, it looked as if every student in the bloody institute had come out to watch.

Grabbing the nearest student to him, Alison Blaire, Charles shouted to make himself heard over the sound of lightning cracks and plasma bursts.

‘What the bloody hell is going on?!’ Charles demanded, pulling the blonde’s attention away from the fight and towards him instead.

‘They’re fighting Professor’ Alison replied blithely. Charles did what he could to remind himself that this most probably wasn’t Dazzler’s doing and that he probably shouldn’t take his anger out on her.

‘I can see that’ he replied tersely, ‘What I meant is what are they fighting about?’ he managed through gritted teeth. He grimaced as the smell of brimstone signalled that Kurt had joined in the fray.

‘What?’ Alison asked, her expression dumbstruck. ‘Oh! No, no, they’re not _fighting_ Professor, just… y’know…play-fighting’ she explained chirpily.

‘Play fighting?’ Charles deadpanned.

‘Uh-huh! First one to bring Magneto down wins!’ Alison smiled and turned to watch once again.

Charles did the same. At first glance, the scene was absolute pandemonium. Ten of his most senior X-Men were launching everything they had at Erik; thunder and lightning rained down from the sky, lasers and plasma blasts shot across the fields, both Colossus and Rogue were using their formidable strength to attack the forcefields Erik had created around himself. Forcefields were another trick Lorna had claimed Erik had up his sleeve, but this was the first time Charles had seen it for himself. Polaris had been telling the truth. Bursts of fireworks and kinetic explosions tried to distract Magneto from his defences long enough to allow an opening for the others. Kurt was teleporting Jean in every direction, letting her fire telekinetic bolts where Erik was least expecting them. Despite all this, Charles’ oldest friend stood in the centre of it all, laughing at them mockingly. It was a vision straight from Charles’ worst nightmares.

After listening to Alison’s hurried explanation though, Charles began to notice little details he had missed before. Rogue was laughing as she tried to get through Erik’s shields, Ororo smiled as she opened the heavens above them and Kurt all but giggled as he shot across the field. Jean was grinning as she shot bolts towards Erik and on closer inspection, Charles saw that Erik’s laughter wasn’t mocking but absolutely genuine. There were only three possible explanations – he was either high, he’d somehow entered a parallel dimension or they’d all lost their damned minds. There was no other reason why his X-Men and their arch-nemesis were play-fighting on the student’s playing fields.

Without warning a ball of blue fur crashed into the grounds besides Charles. He hadn’t even seen Hank in all the commotion. A ridiculous grin was plastered all over his face and he was panting as if he’d spent the last three hours in the danger room.

‘Professor!’ Hank exclaimed as he caught sight of Charles and sat down beside him, ‘I didn’t know you were here!’

‘I wasn’t’ Charles began flatly, ‘the blasts woke me up’

‘Ah. Yes, sorry about that Charles, we didn’t want to wake you’

Charles shook his head as he watched Remy launch a full-scale assault against Erik. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t Erik who was left lying on the ground by the end of it.

‘And what is it exactly that _has_ woken me up Hank?’

‘You could call it an alfresco danger-room session. Rogue and Scott decided it was time to take our training up a notch’

‘By all of you attacking Erik at once?’ Charles asked, raising a brow. Hank just shrugged it return.

‘Magneto liked the idea. And he does seem to be doing just fine, Professor’.

‘It’s not him I’m worried about. There’s at least 200 students out here watching the damned thing. What if Erik fires a bloody rod into them?’

The man had only announced his very public, high profile divorce the day before and after the conversation the two of them had had yesterday evening, it wasn’t exactly presumptuous to say the man wasn’t in the best headspace at the moment.

‘It’s non-lethal strikes only. Erik was the one who suggested _we_ try to take him down and he’s not so much as touched a piece of metal yet…BUT considering who we’re dealing with, that’s why we have Polaris sat over there.’

Hank pointed to the far side of the field where Charles spotted a now familiar green-haired mutant sitting underneath one of the larger oak trees. At first glance Lorna appeared to be engrossed in the book she was reading but when he looked closer, Charles saw that her left hand was subtly extended towards the impromptu ‘training’ session, maintaining a forcefield around those taking part and effectively shielding the spectators. Ignoring everything else about the scene around him, it spoke volumes that Hank and the others trusted Lorna to keep the students safe – and from Erik of all people.

‘Have you got any further with your research into secondary mutations?’ Charles asked, watching as a seemingly unconcerned Lorna sustained a strong enough barrier to deflect not only her father’s, but also the attacks of every one of his active X-Men.

‘Oh! Yes!’, Hank’s eyes lit up as they always did at being asked about his work, ‘or rather…no, as it turns out’

‘No?’

‘It’s ridiculous I hadn’t figured it out earlier. Everything is, whilst extraordinary of course, entirely within the known parameters for both of them. The issue was that I was thinking of them as _metalokinetics_ rather than _electromagnetic kinetics_...’

‘Hank’, Charles interrupted, ‘please, start at the beginning’ he pleaded.

The other mutant laughed warmly as he realised his mistake.

‘Apologies Professor, I’ll do what I can not to get carried away’ he smiled.  ‘The abilities both Erik and Lorna have demonstrated are – when you consider the science – entirely plausible. The truth of the situation is both remarkable and daunting; there are no secondary mutations. The Lehnsherr’s both possess an astonishing control over the electromagnetic spectrum and have very likely been able to do what they do for a very long time. From what Lorna’s told me, it’s almost a certainty that Magneto has been able to do these things without our knowledge for at least two decades’

‘Two decades?! Hank forgive me but I’m not sure I follow. _How_ are they doing it?’ Charles asked, flinching as he caught sight of Erik launching Scott through the air. He could see the way Erik restrained the force behind the throw however, and the younger Summers brother smiled as he got up and dusted himself off.

‘As I said, I was thinking of them as metalokinetics – and by that description, there wasn’t any logical explanation behind them being able to create portals _or_ forcefields. That’s where I was going wrong Charles – Erik and Lorna don’t just manipulate metal, they have the entire electromagnetic spectrum at their beck and call. Electromagnetism is one of the four fundamental forces of the universe. As you know, electromagnetism is both electricity and magnetism; two distinct but closely intertwined energies. By using his control over these forces, they’re both able to hold open space and therefore create a Lorentzian transferable wormhole – better known to us as portals. Lorna came to the school able to control the temperature which is something that is easily achievable when you have control over the entire spectrum – simple magnetic fluctuations can produce heat. Not only that, it would theoretically give them the ability to manipulate the body’s electromagnetic signals, as well as deconstruct matter at an atomic level’

Charles seemed to sway under the weight of Hank’s words.

‘It’s the interaction of magnetic fields that holds an atom together’ he replied, coming to the same conclusion Hank must have done God-knows how long ago. ‘His mutation gives Eric the ability to destroy something without even having to touch it’ Charles added under his breath.

‘Precisely, Professor. It may potentially also give him and Lorna some limited telepathic potential. The neurons of the brain gives out electromagnetic waves which they could technically detect – it’s feasible that they could maintain their brain’s operational integrity against a telepathic assault or even be sensitive enough to pick up extreme focused thoughts’

A heavy silence fell between them; the implications of what had been said were coursing through Charles’ head. Silently he watched as Erik was almost caught off guard by Jean.

‘Hank,’ Charles murmured, quiet enough for nobody else to hear, ‘what have I done?’

It was bad enough having knowingly let a wanted terrorist into his school, but now it appeared Charles had unknowingly allowed in two weapons of mass destruction too. No, that was unfair on Lorna. By that definition, Charles should never have allowed Jean here either; she was by far the most powerful of them all. Potential does not always predate intention. Erik on the other hand had proved himself both capable and willing to commit atrocities; if Charles had known what he’d just learnt when Erik came to him, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to give the other man what he wanted. Was that fair? Probably not, but Charles had already risked so much for Magneto’s sake.

For a long moment, Charles thought Hank wasn’t going to reply.

‘You’ve done what you think is right Professor’ he sighed. ‘I just hope you’re right this time’ Hank added tiredly.

Looking back to where the other mutants were fighting, if Charles made himself forget the past sixty years, he could believe that he and Erik had set up the school together, as they had promised to do, and that the scene in front of him was just any other training session. For a moment he let himself soak in the laughter of those around him, marvelling in both his friend’s incredible gifts and their skill in using them. No one was angry, no one was bitter, and everyone was revelling in the sheer joy of being a mutant. Remy laughed as another one of his own kinetic bursts were thrown back at him. If I get nothing else from this whole god-awful situation, Charles thought, at least I have this. All of them, for one glorious morning, having fun.

After a few seconds he allowed reality to trickle back in. The past sixty years _had_ happened, there wasn’t one of his X-Men who hadn’t seen more than their fair share of tragedy and the reason for most of that trauma was currently deflecting their every shot, seemingly without any effort at all. Erik hadn’t stayed to run the school with him because if he had, the two of them could have grown old together instead of both of them being here today looking like cheap imitations of Dorian Gray. Erik may be the world’s most ruthless mutant with an entire country at his command, but Charles was hardly a retiring wallflower himself. He was the world’s most powerful telepath and the leader of an elite mutant peace-keeping force and he’d be damned if his X-Men were going to lose on their bloody home turf.

‘What are the rules?’ Charles demanded, startling Hank.

‘Erm…there’s not many. Erik isn’t allowed to control any metal, nobody is allowed to cause lasting damage and erm…telepathy isn’t allowed’ Hank mumbled the last part self-consciously.

‘Telepathy isn’t allowed?’

‘In all fairness Professor, it does rather level the playing field if you can control everybody on it’

Charles sighed and considered a different plan.

‘Hank get back on the field and tell Kurt to get Erik’s helmet. It’s in his room on top of the old writing desk. Once he has it, put it on Rogue and get Jean to blast Erik on the right-hand side, with Rogue approaching from the left. With any luck, that should give Anna an opening’ Charles ordered.

‘Excuse me?’ the fur on Hank’s brows furrowed in confusion.

‘Do you want to win this sodding thing or not? Get the helmet, get it on Rogue, get Jean to attack _from the right_ ’

Hank frowned, but a second later he was bounding towards Kurt to deliver his instructions. Those first few fateful months spent with Erik may have sent his life careening down a path he’d never wanted but they’d also provided Charles with something so very few people possessed – he _knew_ Erik. Really knew him. Charles knew the way his hand would twitch the moment before he lost his temper, knew the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he was trying not to laugh, and he knew the way Erik looked when he thought nobody else could see them. Charles wasn’t foolish enough to believe he still knew the man better than anybody else as he once had, but he was damned certain he still knew Magneto better than 99% of the population. That was why he knew that Erik only had partial vision in his left eye, it was a permanent reminder of the horrors he endured at the hands of Shaw. Shaw, along with a group of drunken off-duty soldiers, had subjected a twelve-year old Erik to an attack so savage that Charles could still feel its lingering effect on the other man’s mind even to this day.

His visual impairment was a viciously guarded secret and one that Charles had never disclosed to anybody else; even when knowledge of it would have given his X-Men the upper hand. However, it was something he was prepared to use to their advantage now; even if they didn’t know the reason behind his tactics. Something about the way Erik laughed as he tossed about Charles’ closest friends riled him – even if his friends were laughing as it happened too. Erik Lehnsherr should be a bloody old-man sitting out of stunts like this, not being in the centre of them and _winning_. He was cheating; no matter how skilled or talented the other mutants were, Erik had decades of combat experience on all of them. He knew what they were going to do next before they had even thought about the move themselves. Piotr stood pummelling Erik’s forcefields with every bit of the considerable amount of strength he possessed, and it wasn’t enough and it never would be; Erik had been fighting since before all of them were born and now he was back to his physical prime. Well…two could play at that game.

Charles watched in satisfaction as he saw Jean approach Erik’s right-hand side. By firing a telekinetic bolt at his right, she would draw Erik’s attention away from his already weaker left side. Erik fought with expertise and experience, which meant he was only create forcefields where he was being directly attacked and in turn, saving as much energy as possible. It was a smart move that explained why Erik had been brushing off his assailants for at least fifteen minutes now without so much as breaking a sweat. Fortunately for Charles, it also meant that wherever Erik wasn’t _aware_ he was being attacked was left undefended. If it was true that Erik did have some telepathic ability (and Charles found himself once again shuddering at the thought), it stood to reason that he may be able to pick up surface thoughts. By getting Rogue to wear Erik’s own helmet and attacking from his weak side, whilst Jean was also attacking from the right, it may mean that any surface thoughts Erik could detect go by unnoticed, allowing Rogue her chance get a solid shot at him. Charles held his breath as Rogue flew into Erik’s blind spot, helmet perched bizarrely on her head.

Time slowed as Rogue drew back her first and landed a punch on Erik that sent him sprawling thirty feet across the ground. The rest of the team looked on in astonishment as the monarch was thrown unceremoniously to the floor and Charles heard the collective gasp that went up from the students behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lorna look up from the book she was reading, hand still outstretched.

With a sickening jolt, Charles realised what a mistake he had made. Magneto, a mutant hardly known for his cool head, had just been smashed into the ground by his former bodyguard, in front of a crowd of young onlookers. Not only that, but the man was going through a _very_ public divorce with potential international ramifications and it wasn’t being overly dramatic to say that Charles had all but rejected him only last night.  It was a recipe for disaster. Slowly, with his back towards everybody, Erik pulled himself off the ground. By the expression on Anna’s face, she had come to the same conclusion as Charles; her face ashen as she hastily threw the helmet to the floor. Erik dusted the dirt off his clothes, wiped his hand across his mouth and turned to face everybody – with a huge smile plastered across his face.

‘Anna-Marie, I thought I taught you how to punch’ Erik grinned to Charles’ disbelief.

It took Rogue only a second to regain her composure.

‘Sugah, that was just a peck and you know it’ she teased back, drawing up her fists as if she expected to need them again. Charles’ horror returned as he saw that she **would** be needing them again. Erik strode towards the woman; his smile never leaving his face and raised his own fists in front of him. This could not be happening.

‘Let’s see if you’re as good as I remember’ Erik smirked.

Erik’s fist snapped out and back again before Charles even had a chance to cry out. Rogue’s head shot back and for an awful moment Charles thought she was going to fall down. Just as he found his voice and began screaming at Erik about _what the hell he thought he was doing hitting a woman_ , the pair began to fight like cat and dog. The two of them traded punches at a speed that both sickened and astonished Charles, pirouetting around each other, trying to catch the other off-guard. Charles lifted his fingers to his temple as he felt a hand press down gently on his shoulder.

‘Charles,’ Ororo said, her lilted accent calm and authoritative, ‘look again’.

He lowered his fingers from his temple and did as Storm instructed, just in time to see Rogue catch Erik on the cheekbone and send him flying once more. The man was the closest to rattled Charles had ever seen him and he was clearly hurt by the blows Anna was landing on him. Still, he pushed himself off the ground and lunged for her again, all the time with the same manic grin plastered across his face. Anna wasn’t just keeping up with Erik, she was _winning._

Charles chastised himself for panicking the way he had; there wasn’t a member of his team that was better suited to trading punches than Rogue… and Erik knew that too. The woman had super-strength and was all but invincible, there was no way Erik could hurt her by engaging her in a fist-fight – and that’s all he was doing. He didn’t seem to be using his own powers at all. With the cloud of panic quickly fading, Charles could see how Rogue was holding back; in the same way that Erik couldn’t hurt her, Anna was **very** capable of doing serious damage to the man in front of her. It was a novelty to watch Erik fight in this way, his mutation allowed him grandiose displays of power when in combat which meant Erik could usually be found in the air levitating a once-beloved national monument threateningly; you never got to see the man fight in the way some of the less powerful mutants have to. It was fast, brutal and unrelenting and forced Charles to push aside the feelings he wasn’t prepared to analyse right now. It was a few more minutes before Erik cheerfully declared Anna the winner and made his way over to Charles whilst clutching his ribs. It was only when Erik was a few feet away that he seemed to remember their last conversation, appearing to hesitate just before he reached him.

‘She really packs quite the punch, doesn’t she?’ Charles teased, not quite managing to resist gloating.

‘I have a feeling she had a bit of help to start with’ Erik smirked in return, apparently happy to ignore what was said last night.

‘Well, I am an X-Men too you know’

Yes,’ Erik smiled ruefully, ‘I suppose you are’

Erik sat down beside him, pulling his legs up in front of him and hanging his arms over them. It was still jarring to see Erik sitting so causally amongst them, a few weeks ago Charles never would have thought it possible.

‘Have you heard any more from Magik?’ Charles ventured, almost reluctant to break their easy silence.

‘Mmm,’he murmured, a frown briefly marring his expression, ‘nothing good. She fears her contacts in the underworld are having a change of heart. If they decide to help Mephisto instead of Illyana we’ll be sitting ducks – blind to what he’s planning next’

‘ _Do_ we know what he’s planning next?’

‘Nothing concrete. Plans of smaller attacks in more populated areas, testing our defences before we know that we need them’ Erik replied without expression, calmly waving at Lorna as she passed by. Just by looking, nobody would know what they were talking about.

‘But where Erik? We can’t do bugger-all if we don’t know where he’s going to attack’ Charles replied, mimicking Erik’s neutral facade.

‘We know where he isn’t going to attack…at least for now that is. SHIELD Headquarters are in NYC, which means that’s off the table. Any attack there would be anything but testing-the-defences – it’d be a full-scale attack. The same goes for Wakanda; any assault there would be nothing but a suicide mission, their tech alone is well beyond anything else the rest of the world has to offer. The United Kingdom is unlikely to be a target, they have the world’s highest percentage of enhanced individuals – there may not be many of them, but that doesn’t make them an easy target. Genosha too is most probably safe an attack anytime soon… there’s a lot to be said for having the Queen of Limbo herself guarding your front door’.

‘So that just leaves us with almost anywhere else in the world then’ Charles concluded, failing to keep the exasperation of out his voice.

‘Precisely’ Erik agreed grimly.

By now the last of the students had made their way inside, the sight of the two of them talking no longer holding the novelty it once had. Sombre grey clouds had begun to bear down over Westchester, and the air had turned cool.

‘How long have you been able to do those things?’ Charles asked. Erik didn’t pretend to not know what he was talking about.

‘Not long after Cuba. I started to look into the science behind my mutation… your words about not challenging myself hit a nerve’

‘Erik you raised a bloody submarine from the depths of the ocean - I’d hardly call that not challenging yourself’.

Charles was rewarded with a small smile, the sort he thought he wouldn’t see again after last night’s rejection.

‘But why didn’t you…,’ Charles faltered, ‘I mean, what you can do, it’s extraordinary Erik, it really is, so why don’t you ever use it?’

‘I used it just now’ Erik replied, his cool eyes seeming to bore into Charles.

‘Yes, but why haven’t you...’

‘Used it when trying to kill your precious X-men?’ Erik interrupted with no real bite in his voice.

‘That’s not quite how I’d have put it Erik, but yes, I suppose that’s the sum of it’ Charles sighed.

The older man hesitated before answering.

‘I’m a wanted man in no less than 67 different countries. There are entire government agencies that are tasked with nothing more than bringing me down. The United Nations ceded Genosha to me because my mutation terrifies them…they wanted to appease me, to keep me in line. That fear is a precarious thing though Charles, push it too far and they’ll come for you again. If they knew the extent of what I could do …what I’m capable of…’

‘So, what? You’ve just been playing nice all these years? Forgive me old friend, but I find that rather hard to believe….’

‘I won’t lie to you Charles. If it was just me, I would have killed them all a long time ago. If I had my way, humanity would be on the brink of collapse by now,’ Charles resisted the urge to argue back and ignored the bitter taste in his mouth that came every time he heard Erik talk like this. ‘It’s not just me anymore though, old friend. Sixteen million mutants rely on me to lead them, to guide them and to fight the hatred still facing our kind. Even before Genosha, I had Lorna and Pietro’

‘He prefers Peter’ Charles corrected for what must be the 1000th time.

‘He can prefer whatever name he likes; Pietro is the name I gave him, and Pietro is the name I will use’ Erik argued back for the 1000th time. ‘What I’m trying to say is that it’s not just me anymore and it hasn’t been that way for a very long time. If the government finds out what I can do it won’t just be me they come after, it will be my children too. It’s no secret that power runs in my family’

‘You’re not on the Omega list’ Charles stated, referring to the government-official list of Omega level mutants, all readily-accessible to the public. His own name had been on that list since the sixties.

‘And I intend to keep it that way’ he replied firmly.

Yet another secret he expected Charles to keep, no doubt. Charles’ mind boggled at the seemingly endless implications. Erik still managed to be an enigma; the man sitting next to him was at once a terrorist, a monarch, both a closeted homosexual and an Omega-level mutant. Charles thought longingly of a day when a conversation with the man didn’t leave him second guessing his own morality.

‘Erik about last night…’ Charles began, wanting to explain himself properly.

He felt as Erik brought up his mental shields instantaneously, his expression becoming distant in an instant.

‘Water under the bridge Charles, you said what you had to’ Erik answered sharply, his accent sharpening his vowels, only to adding to the effect. ‘We should head inside before it rains’.

Erik was ten feet away before Charles could protest.


	15. First Fatalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision is forced upon the X-Mansion.

Alex knew there was a good chance that Lehnsherr knew he was there. Alex had taken to prowling about outside his room, learning what he could, waiting for the other man to slip up. Alex had let him play Charles before – there wasn’t a hope in hell he was going to let that happen again. One day the man who do or say something to show the world what a piece of crap he actually was. He didn’t blame his friends for warming to Magneto; he’d practically considered the man a father figure, once upon a time. It was worse now that Magneto looked like he had when he first took him in; Alex didn’t forget though, and he most certainly didn’t forgive.

It looked like he’d picked the right time to lurk around today, not only was Magneto talking to Mystique, he was speaking to her via his computer. This time, he would be able to hear both sides of the conversation instead of just Lehnsherr’s frustratingly indecipherable yes and no answers. Alex stopped his pacing and stopped just within hearing distance.

‘Erik are you alone?’

‘Yes’

‘We have a situation’

Hearing Mystique’s voice after so many years was jarring. Alex had seen her no less than a few months ago but it was rare for her to speak in public, preferring only to smirk and play the part of Magneto’s little pet. He still remembered the dynamic young woman he’d first met, one full of fun and laughter - despite all her years spent hiding her true form. Her voice now was cold and emotionless, still undeniably her but devoid of any real feeling. Lehnsherr really had created his perfect soldier.

‘What?’ Magneto asked, giving nothing away.

‘There’s been a human birth. A resident of Hammer Bay gave birth two weeks ago, with the baby undergoing the standard tests, but no X-gene has been identified’

The other man didn’t answer at first. Alex held his breath and came to an absolute stop in case the man was listening for eavesdroppers. Alex felt his heartbeat quicken – this could be it, this could be what he’s been waiting for. It was common knowledge that it was a capital offence for a human to be in Genosha. He knew Charles could be infuriatingly forgiving of Erik but he was fairly sure that infanticide would push even the Professor to turn his back on the man.

‘The parents?’ Magneto responded coolly.

‘The father’s dead. The mother’s unwilling to submit the child to further testing and has recently begun refusing the authorities entry into her house’

‘And the authorities?’

‘They’re reluctant to distress the mother but feel compelled to respond to public concern. People aren’t happy about having a human here, Erik’

Alex thought he caught of a hint of something in Mystique’s voice, a flicker of emotion. Was she worried about the baby? Or the did she side with the Genoshans? It was a tense few minutes before Magneto responded.

‘Remind them that the baby is a Genoshan resident and as such it is protected by the Crown. Any attack on the family, both verbal or physical, will therefore be considered high treason and an attack on the Crown itself’

Alex couldn’t believe his own ears. This wasn’t happening - was Magneto really offering to protect a human? Not just that, but a human who dared to be born in his godforsaken mutant utopia?

‘Erik…’ Mystique began, the hesitation clear in his voice.

‘And have the family moved into the palace grounds for their own safety, if the mother’s amenable to it’ Magneto interrupted, causing Alex to doubt his own sanity. This wasn’t really happening, it couldn’t be.

‘Do you really think that’s wise? If we start allowing humans in Genosha….’ Mystique countered.

‘Was the infant was born to a mutant mother and father?’ Magneto asked sharply.

‘…Yes’

‘And is it currently living in Genosha?’

‘Yes’

‘With a Genoshan issued birth certificate?’

‘Yes but…’ Mystique answered in frustration.

‘Then the infant is legally a mutant’ Magneto interrupted firmly. ‘I am not about to allow the vetting of nationals based on qualities we want them to have. You of all people should understand why that is Mystique’

‘Forgive me, your Majesty’ she replied, the closest to repentant Alex had ever heard her be. It seems somebody else hadn’t forgotten how much of a piece of crap Erik could be either.

‘It is a slippery slope to repeating the past, my dear… you’d do well to remember that’ Magneto chastised, his phrasing of the sentence betraying his true age – nobody under 70 years old spoke like that.

‘What’s the child’s name?’

‘Graydon Creed’

‘Make an official statement and get Graydon and his mother into the palace. Let me know if you run into any difficulties’

Magneto ended the conversation and Alex made a hasty retreat through the old, winding hallways. He did his best to remember every bad thing Lehnsherr had ever done to him over the years but couldn’t stop himself from hearing the protectiveness in the other man’s voice when he’d been talking about the child – it was the same protectiveness he’d once used to defend Alex, when everybody else had written him off as a nothing more than a troublemaker.

 

***

Ororo Munroe serenely came to a stop outside Charles’ study. Over several weeks, she had learned that she shared at least one thing in common with the man they called Magneto; they both hated small talk and avoided it if at all possible. It was for this reason she found herself knocking on the Professor’s door at 11:00 pm. She heard as the professor made his way from the far side of the study, no doubt moving from his chess game – the man was a creature of habit – and made his way to the old oak doors. Ororo smiled as she saw him, his hair was slightly dishevelled from having run his hands through it and she could make out the dark circles under his eyes even from the dim light of the hallway. He’d been staying up late again.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asked brightly, happy to see her despite the late hour.

‘Forgive me Charles but I need to speak with you’ she stated plainly, unwilling to keep her friend up any later than she had to.

‘Of course, of course, come on in’ he said, whilst ushering her towards the seats across from the fireplace. It was almost summer, but the house had a tendency to hold onto the chill of spring and many of the fires were still burning to keep the cold at bay. Charles manoeuvred himself across from her with a grace his older self wouldn’t have been able to manage; not that the Professor had been frail – far from it – but his stolen youth allowed him a fluidity of movement Ororo was still caught off-guard by. It was as if a history book had come to life; the young man in front of her was straight from the pages of the textbooks she studied as a teenager. She knew better than most how much he hated his regained youth, not least because the young mutant who’d caused it had been captured and used by Magneto, but there was something…. _exhilarating_ about having the Professor back in his prime that Ororo could not deny.

‘As you know, we have been training for several weeks,’ Ororo began as soon as Charles was settled, ‘and I think we’re all in agreement that it has gone… _better_ than anyone expected’

‘I think that’s a fair assessment’ Charles laughed warmly at her assessment.

‘And for that reason, I’ve come to ask you this – when are we going to the Avengers?’

Her question stripped the smile from the Professor’s face.

‘We have been training relentlessly Professor and there’s not a member of this team who isn’t the better for it. Bobby is doing things now nobody thought possible, Scott’s range is off-the-charts, Remy is able to charge far more than just cards now and even Erik’s command of lightning is as if he’s been doing it his whole life’ Ororo said, deliberately using Magneto’s real name.

‘Erik’s command of what? Ororo, what on earth have you been teaching him?’ Charles asked aghast.

‘Did you think it was only the X-Men who had something to learn?’ she teased playfully. ‘We’ve been training Erik, Lorna and Emma as much as they have us. Colossus has been working with Frost in her diamond form and I have been helping Lorna and Erik with their control of lightning. Their mutation is electromagnetism – it may not allow them to create lightning, but they _are_ able to control it’

Charles still looked askance at what she had said.

‘If it helps at all, Erik got burnt _many_ times in the process’ she added. Charles rewarded her with a reluctant smile.

‘That’s not what I came to discuss, however. My point is that I fear we have nothing more to learn from each other. We have completed scenario after scenario in the danger room, we have fought hordes of these demons from the programs Hank has created and we have _nothing_ more we can do here. The clock is ticking Professor and Goddess help us, we are sitting idle. Our friends remain clueless as to the danger that approaches them, and it will be on all of us if we fail to act’ she said sternly.

‘I know’ her friend admitted, ‘but there are so many risks involved. Erik…he shouldn’t even be here at all, to say we’ve been working with him….’

‘It’s too late for that Charles’ Ororo interrupted, ‘We made that decision when they came here, we _all_ did. Since then, we have brought out the best in each other and it’s our duty to use what we’ve learnt to help those who need it.’

‘And I  just need some more time to think about it, my dear, to work out how to put our best case forward…’

‘There is no more time Professor’ Ororo stood from her chair, growing increasingly frustrated at her friend’s reluctance to do what needed to be done. ‘I’ve spoken with Illyana, with Erik and with Hank. This is not some threat we can avoid simply because people don’t want us to help. They need us to help – all of us. Have you seen what they did to Genosha, Charles? The country has a population comprised solely of mutants, people who can protect themselves in ways no-one else can, and they still managed to destroy an entire town in under an hour. These things are deadly and Mephisto himself hasn’t even shown his face yet. We cannot allow ourselves to sit here and hope the fight misses us, because it won’t. They’re coming for us Professor’

Charles sighed as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, which Ororo considered wasn’t far from the truth. His hands strayed towards his temples as they always did when he was stressed, and he looked towards the fire, turning his gaze away from her.

‘When they find out Erik is here, in America, …there’s a very real chance they’ll kill him before we get the chance to explain anything at all’ he almost whispered, voicing what Ororo believed to be the real reason behind his reluctance. Instantly, her demeanour softened, and she crouched to meet Charles gaze. She could understand fearing for a friend.

‘There is’ she agreed gently, turning his face to look at her. ‘And that is the chance Erik took when he decided to help – it is not your decision to make for him.’

Charles sighed and met her gaze in return. ‘I know’ he agreed unwillingly.

‘Erik has made a great sacrifice in coming here’ Ororo continued, ‘He has left his own people at their time of need, he has worked with his enemies in order to help them and now he is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, so _our_ friends know what is coming. The least we can do is play our own part in all of this.’

A single tear ran down her friend’s cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. Her heart broke for the Professor and the position he now found himself him. It had been made clear to everyone how close he and Erik after seeing them together. At first Ororo had almost wanted to believe that Charles had been holding onto some unrequited feeling, but it was obvious how much Erik cared for Charles in return. The world’s most fearsome mutant had a soft side he reserved solely for Charles Xavier. To lose someone you love, to walk them to their death yourself…. Ororo didn’t know if it was a sacrifice she would be able to make.

‘You’re right’ Charles said, his voice cracking. ‘Goddamn it, you’re right’.

 

***

In the end, the decision was made for them. Remy turned on the TV as the rest of the room made breakfast the next morning, turning to the news as he always did. A breaking story stopped Charles in his tracks.

_Over 6000 casualties have been confirmed dead after a devastating attack in Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan, this morning. At approximately 07:18 EST unknown assailants attacked the neighbourhood leaving thousands dead and many more fighting for their lives. Local heroes Jessica Jones, Daniel Rand and Daredevil, as well as over 1500 children, are amongst the known casualties._

Images of people he’d never met but had greatly admired, flashed across the screen. From behind him, he heard Kitty cry out; she’d known Danny Rand.

_Both emergency services and S.H.I.E.L.D arrived at the scene at 07:24 by which time the assailants had left the area. The suspects remain at large._

_Early reports describe the attackers as ‘non-human’ and of possible mutant-birth. No recognisable firearms or explosives appear to have been used, with witnesses stating the attackers had ‘mutant powers’. Motivations behind the attack remain unclear with no known terrorist organisations taking responsibility for the attack as yet. The Free Mutant Republic Genosha has so far issued no public comment._

A picture of Erik came onto the screen, a photo of him dressed in his full royal regalia; in direct contrast to the man standing beside him in grey jogging bottoms and a simple white t-shirt, the colour quickly draining from his face.

_We go now to Tameer at the scene…._

Lorna snapped her fingers and the screen went dead. ‘It’s started’ she whispered to the horrified faces around her.


	16. Goodbyes

If the news report hadn’t confirmed it for him, Bobby knew for certain that things had gone to shit when he was told to meet the others in the Professor’s office for an emergency briefing. Generally speaking, it was the ‘serious’ X-Men who were called in to discuss tactics, not the ones who treated both sarcasm and denial like old buddies. Here he was though, caught sitting between slim and the magnet man himself, hoping to God nobody asked him for his input. He didn’t think ‘run and hide’ was going to be embraced as a strategy.

‘You’re going to need some of us to come with you’ Scott told the Professor.

‘Absolutely not’ Charles countered, ‘It’s far too risky as it is. It’s against government protocol for a mutant to even be inside S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters; I’m not about to send anybody in who doesn’t absolutely need to be there’

‘Summers is right’ Erik argued. ‘If just me and you turn up Charles, their first thought is going to be that I’ve taken you as a hostage. I’ll be dead before either one of us could open our mouths; chances are you would be too. By having some of the team come with us it would appear that if anything, the X-Men are ‘bringing me in’. It could buy us valuable seconds’

Bobby couldn’t believe this was actually happening. The past few months had been a learning curve for everybody; it seemed that the Professor and Magneto had a shared past more dramatic than an episode of Dynasty, he had developed a whole host of fun and funky abilities he never knew he had and there was currently a horde of demons hell-bent on turning earth in Hell 2.0. Still, the idea that they were really going to smuggle Magneto into a mutant-free government facility and just _hoped_ the Avengers played nice pushed the limits of even Bobby’s usually unshakeable faith in humanity. He liked the Avengers, he really did, but did he trust them not to shoot the people who had been assisting a wanted tyrant since the start of the year? Not on your life.

‘Anna, would you be willing to accompany us?’ Charles asked, an expression Bobby didn’t recognise flashing across his face.

‘Not this time sugah, no’ Anna drawled. ‘As much as ah’d love some time alone with you boys, and believe me ah would, my powers are all smash and grab Professor – ah’m not the right girl to bring in right now. The only defensive ability ah have is my skin and that kills folks. Y’all need mutants the humans trust’.

‘Rogue’s right Professor’ Scott interjected. ‘The mutants who go with you need to be trusted by humans; someone with Rogue’s abilities and history is only ever going to be seen as a threat. We need people who are both well-liked and powerful enough to help if things do go downhill’

‘Ororo, Jean & Bobby’ Hank announced.

Bobby felt his stomach drop.

‘All three possess remarkable mutations,’ Hank continued, ‘and are trusted implicitly by the general public. They’re held in the highest regard by both humans and mutantkind alike’

Bobby reminded himself to take notes from Magneto on how to be an A grade asshole.

‘They’re right Charles’ Magneto said decidedly. ‘As well as their public image, Storm, Phoenix and Iceman are three of the most impressive members of your team. If things are to get ugly, I’d trust any of them to turn things in our favour’.

A wave of near-panic washed over Bobby as the true reality of the situation hit home. The X-Men were really going to help the world’s most wanted man break into Avengers HQ and it was looking like he was going to be one of the mutants to do it. He looked around at the serious faces around him and for the first time in a very long time, felt completely out of his depth.

‘We’re not going to ask anybody to do anything they don’t want to though’ Charles said, looking directly at Bobby. ‘This is on me and Erik – no-one else’.

The room was silent for a moment as everyone seemed to come to their final decisions. It was Jean who broke the silence.

‘Erik, I need you to promise us – me, Ororo, Bobby and Charles – one thing’ she said sternly, her answer appearing to rest solely on Magneto’s response to what she said next.

‘What is it?’ Erik replied, his voice cool and unperturbed.

‘That if things do go wrong…if they don’t listen to what we have to say… that you’ll fight to get us _all_ out of there’ she said, raising her chin in silent challenge. Jean didn’t need to explain any further – they either go in as a team or not at all. All eyes turned to Magneto.

‘I won’t allow any mutant to be left behind in that place’ he answered, his voice as sincere as Bobby had ever heard it. Jean nodded in reply. Her mind was made up.

‘Ororo, Bobby – what will you two do?’ Charles asked, his tone neutral and unassuming.

‘When we spoke last night’ Ororo replied, ‘I told you that the least we can do is play our part in all this. I stand by what I said; I’m ready to play whatever part the goddess gives to me’.

The X-Men turned to look at Bobby, waiting for his reply. Shit, shit, shit. What was he supposed to say after _that_?  _You know what guys, this whole X-Men thing has been fun and all, but you can count me out on this one…_ This would be a whole lot easier if he didn’t give a crap about the people around him. Moments appeared to stretch into an eternity and Bobby flinched as a hand came to rest on his forearm. Bewilderedly, he saw that the hand belonged to Magneto.

‘Bobby,’ he began, ‘nobody will think any less of you if you choose to stay here. I appreciate every bit of support we get … but not if that comes at the cost of your own better judgement’. His voice exuded nothing but fatherly concern, despite the guy now having no more than a decade on Bobby, tops. He had officially lost the plot. That was the only concrete way to explain why he was now sat next to a paternal Magneto who was for all intents and purposes, offering him a get-out clause.

‘What the hell’ Bobby sighed defeatedly, ‘I’ve had my ass handed to me enough times whilst fighting against you…maybe I’ll have more luck fighting beside you’.

Bobby was rewarded with a blindingly bright smile from Magneto, which went someway to explaining why the Professor had put up with as much crap as he had over the years. Erik’s eyes really did come to life when he was smiling. Damn this guy was hot.

‘You can’t wear your armour’ Lorna announced, breaking Bobby’s lapse in sanity. He looked up to catch the Professor smirking in his direction. Fuck - he’d most probably heard Bobby eyeing up his boyfriend. Not that it meant anything…Jesus, no, never. The man was just absurdly good looking, it was like a mutation in itself. _Was_ Magneto Charles’ boyfriend? Charles’ smile only widened. Fuuuuuck.

‘Excuse me?’ Erik snapped, moving his hand from Bobby’s arm. Bobby pulled his sleeve down and hid his arms beneath the table. The Professor hid his mouth behind his hand.

‘You walk in there in full ‘Magneto’ gear and they’re going to throw everything they have at you before any of you have time to blink. Forge may be good, but I don’t think even his armour can withstand an attack from the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D all at once’ Lorna replied coolly.

‘So what would you suggest? I just walk in there with my arms cuffed behind my back?’ Erik replied cuttingly. Lorna didn’t flinch.

‘No, I’m sure they’ll get around to that themselves’ she replied dryly. ‘Your best bet is your royal attire; it’s non-threatening but should hold enough clout to stop them from firing at you straight away’.

‘Out of the question’ Erik retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

‘You know I’m right,’ Lorna argued determinedly, ‘no-one is going to bat an eyelid at killing Magneto but pretty much anyone would pause before striking down a King’

‘Lorna, you know that’s not going to stop anyone when the King you’re talking about is me’ Erik smiled bitterly.

‘It would’ Charles bit out from the opposite side of the room.

‘Charles?’ Erik questioned, his brow furrowing.

‘When I saw you in your crown…in your bedroom,’ the Professor blushed as he realised just what that sounded like to the rest of the room, ‘I didn’t even recognise you at first. You looked regal, intimidating...’

‘I never intended to intimidate you…’ Erik interrupted. Bobby pinched his arm as he unwittingly found himself in the middle of the world’s most messed up soap-opera. From the looks of his teammates they were thinking exactly the same thing.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ Charles continued, shaking his head, ‘You looked like an entirely different person. You weren’t Magneto anymore.’

‘Charles,’ Magneto almost whispered, ‘you’re hardly unbiased’ he smiled gently, whilst staring at the rest of the room, _daring_ them to say anything about what was being said. Nobody breathed a word – not even Alex.

‘Trust me. Listen to Lorna’ the Professor replied simply. ‘It might make all the difference’.

Magneto looked back at Lorna who seemed to be the only person in the room nonplussed by the recent conversation.

‘I just want to be able to see my Dad after all of this is done’ she smiled sheepishly.

A look Bobby didn’t recognise swept across Erik’s face as he stood and made his way over to his daughter. Without speaking, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the young woman’s forehead. Instantly, Bobby wanted to be anywhere but in that room, the privacy of the moment seeming too much to bear. Magneto muttered something in German to Lorna that Bobby didn’t understand. Lorna smiled and stepped away from her father.

‘Okay’ Erik announced to the room ‘let’s get this over with’.

 

*****

Charles made his way away from the rest of the group who were still lingering in his office and made his way towards his own quarters, now that the meeting had ended. Being careful not to think too much about what he was doing lest he change his mind, he counted the paintings in the corridors as he passed them by. He would call Tony directly, the two of them still being on friendly terms despite everything that had happened since New York. Charles remembered Tony’s father, he had been a brilliant man – a pioneer of his time. In that respect, Stark Jr was his father’s child; always pushing the boundaries of what was possible, innovating in order to survive. Charles hoped that same enterprising spirit would mean Tony would listen to what he had to say. He would find out soon enough.

He turned the corner to find Kitty Pryde waiting outside his bedroom, her left foot tapping impatiently. She must have left the meeting earlier than he had – Charles hadn’t noticed her going past him, although with her abilities that hardly meant anything.

‘You took your time’ she complained as soon as she caught sight of him.

‘I hardly knew you were waiting for me’ Charles pointed out soothingly.

‘You’re a telepath Charles, act like it for once’.

Kitty was an oddity amongst his X-men in that she actually didn’t _like_ Charles all that much. She had taken a dislike to him not long after enrolling at the school, when he had decided she was too young to join the X-Men. It had been the wrong decision – Kitty had already been on several dangerous missions when she had asked to join – but Charles had not been able to see past her age. Jean and Scott had been no more than children when they fought Apocalypse, but still he couldn’t see the girl’s potential. It was a mistake she had never let him forget. Now, it was his pacificism and his tendency towards diplomacy that angered her most; Kitty had never had problems holding grudges and believed people should be made to pay for the crimes they had committed. She had always been an unruly student; brave and ready to fight, never one to back away from an argument. Kitty had always been able to see Charles’ faults and flaws, long before the other students realised he was just another mutant like them, not some figurehead to be revered. He adored that about her.

‘What can I do for you Kitty?’ Charles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

‘We don’t have to take him’ she all but blurted out, ‘You don’t have to take Magneto with you’

‘And what would you suggest instead?’ he asked, following the woman’s train of thought.

‘Leave him here’ she replied, stepping away from the door she had been leaning against, ‘Get him away from us…preferably back home and _we_ just go to the Avengers. We’re the X-Men Professor, they’ll listen to us. We don’t need to bring a walking disaster in there with us. We don’t _need_ him’

‘And how do we go about explaining what we know? The only other place to have been attacked until now is Genosha’ Charles asked without reproach.

‘You’re a telepath – say you ‘heard it’ or whatever you need to’

‘I wouldn’t be alive if I had, Kitty. Any non-approved telepathic activity in Genosha carries the death penalty – S.H.I.E.L.D will know that’ he replied, ignoring the anger that threatened to bubble to the surface at the thought of Erik’s awful laws. Kitty’s face fell for a second, the knowledge obviously catching her off guard. She recovered quickly.

‘And you’d really think he’d do that? To _you_? It’s obvious you’re his favourite pet’ Kitty all but sneered.

‘No Kitty, in all honesty I don’t think he would’ Charles answered, his voice firm, ‘but S.H.I.E.L.D don’t know that and if I turn up today saying what you suggest they will start asking questions as to _why_ Magneto hasn’t retaliated. Don’t underestimate Emma Frost – she’d know I was peeking around as soon as I decided to and S.H.I.E.L.D know that too. We can’t say any of our teleporters were there at the time because it’s illegal for any non-Genoshan mutant to even be there. It’s a completely isolated state with next-to-no contact with others so we can’t just say Magneto picked up the phone and let us know. _Even if we could,_ the attack in Genosha happened months ago. Why have we been sitting on this information all this time? If it had taken place anywhere else, we might possibly be able to get away with saying we hoped it was an isolated incident. Not in this situation though – as soon as they so much as hear the word Genosha, every damn government agent is going to be on high alert. We will not be able to cover our tracks here Miss Pryde, our only hope is to tell the truth – we waited so long because we were verifying for ourselves whether Erik was telling the truth’

‘Are you sure that’s the real reason?’ Kitty asked, skirting dangerously close to Charles’ truth. He held his tongue.

‘You’re destroying the reputation of every single mutant who has ever fought for you by going in there with him’. Kitty looked as if she wanted to say more but her lips stayed pressed together.

‘And I’ll be sentencing all of them to their deaths if I don’t. We don’t get to sit out of this one’ he replied steely.

Charles made his way past her and into his room, promptly ending the discussion. He listened until he couldn’t here her angry footsteps anymore. He had a phone call to make.

 

*****

 

Lorna stood next to Jean, Ororo, Bobby and Charles and waited for her dad to arrive. Nightcrawler stood patiently to one side ready to transport the ‘chosen’ mutants, if that’s what you could call them. The Professor had told her that Stark had initially refused - the risk of officially associating with mutants apparently too high - but had finally relented when the Professor had told him they had valuable information about this morning’s attack. Stark had no reason not to trust Charles – not yet anyway.

‘And they agreed to Kurt taking you all there?’ Lorna checked, to break the silence if nothing else.

‘ _Tony_ agreed to Kurt taking _me_ there on the condition that Kurt leaves immediately. They think I’m arriving alone. I’m certain the decision won’t have been popular with the others. I should imagine they’re giving him a pretty hard time about it as we speak’ Charles replied knowingly.

‘It’s not him I’m worried about’ she muttered. She did not care for Tony Stark.

‘Lorna,’ Charles looked at her, his eyes painfully earnest, ‘I’m not going to let anything bad happen to your father’

She wasn’t stupid – she knew better than to be fooled by the wheelchair and the choir-boy appearance; Lorna knew Xavier was one of the world’s most powerful mutants. He was also honest to a fault too and he obviously cared about her dad. She smiled at the reassurance. Whilst not naive enough to believe Xavier could stop _anything_ bad from happening to him, she knew he would do what he could. Quickly, Lorna checked to see if Emma was looking. She wasn’t - she was deep in conversation with Scott, with him desperately trying not to look below the blonde’s neckline. Lorna smirked, Emma had that effect on people.

‘Don’t leave him on his own’ she whispered to Xavier, keeping her eyes fixed on Emma in case she caught wind of what was being said.

‘What?’ he replied, the alarm on his face meaning he’d clearly misunderstood her request. Lorna didn’t blame him.

‘He hates to be alone… especially at night’ she replied, keeping her voice low enough so no-one else could hear, ‘the nightmares…. they never stopped’. If the two of them had been as close as Lorna suspected they had been, the Professor would know what she meant. A wave of understanding washed over the man’s face.

‘Oh. Okay. I mean… I won’t’

‘Thank you’

Emma continued her conversation with a clearly flustered Cyclops, the quick exchange had gone by unnoticed. Emma was vehemently against Magneto revealing any weaknesses and Lorna wasn’t in the mood for one of her lectures now. She knew better – her dad needed somebody. She turned her attention to the large group of students that had gathered around to see them leave. Lorna was still amazed that not one of them had spilled the secret of her dad’s whereabouts in all the time they’d been here. She didn’t know if that was testament to Magneto’s notoriety or to their faith in the Professor. 

The door in front of the group opened and her dad walked through. He’d listened to her advice and wore his traditional royal attire – an elegant long black doublet, similar in style to an Indian achkan, black trousers and dress shoes and of course, his royal crown. Lorna loved that crown. The two of them had spent what seemed like an eternity deciding on what it should look like after Emma decided he couldn’t go around wearing his helmet all day. He’d spent the whole time pretending not to care in the slightest, but Lorna remembered the smile he’d given her when it was eventually presented to him. He looked every inch the monarch in it and he knew it. Lorna bowed as he entered the room, the habit being second-nature back home. To her surprise, she saw the rest of the room do the same – only the Professor remained unbowed. Well, what do you know.

‘You may stand’ her dad announced after a moment, slipping into a royal persona with ease. His ability to do just that was potentially the difference between life or death, Lorna mused dejectedly. She hoped to God her theory was right. He made his way over to her and kissed her gently on the forehead. She swallowed tightly. Polaris did not cry.

‘Look after them. Emma too’ he instructed gently. She nodded sharply, not trusting her own voice.

Magneto made his way over to the assembled group whilst Lorna etched the way he walked into her memory permanently. Xavier smiled when he came to a stop beside him.

‘You scrub up well’ the Professor joked in spite of the situation. Her dad gave him a small wink, so fast that Lorna almost thought she’d imagined it.

‘I believe it’s in the X-Men’s best interests if we keep up a pretence of merely being acquaintances’ Magneto said to the group, his voice cutting through the room. ‘Any association with me is no doubt going to damage your credibility. I’ll do what I can to keep your reputations – and your lives – intact’ He looked at Charles as if for permission…the other man nodded his silent agreement.

‘From now on I will refer to you only by your mutant names. You will refer to me as King Magnus or Your Majesty. In the spirit of trying to keep the Avenger’s fingers away from _any_ triggers – you will **not** call me Magneto. You have no knowledge of my family or my personal life, as I have no knowledge of yours’ he continued, looking at both Emma and the Professor, ‘Is that understood?’

A chorus of ‘yes’s rang throughout the room. So it seemed that King Magnus was back in ‘work’ mode. As much as Lorna had enjoyed seeing him relax whilst at the mansion, it was good to see him back to his usual self. He was a man most comfortable when in charge; he and the Professor were the same in that way at least.

As if in slow-motion, Kurt approached the group, seeming to understand that now was the time. He instructed them all to hold hands before the jump. Lorna watched the Professor stroke his thumb across the back of her dad’s hand and saw her dad squeeze the Professor’s in return.

A whip-like crack, the smell of sulphur and they were gone.


	17. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mutants arrive at Avengers HQ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ridiculously short chapter but one that was written hastily in response to some lovely comments :) 
> 
> More soon!

As soon as Tony had taken the phone call, he had put the facility on high-alert, which to Steve seemed unnecessarily underhanded. Sure, the situation was unusual, and the timing was far from ideal, but the Professor had never done anything to warrant their distrust. Steve believed him at his word and if the man said he could help, he could help – and they sure as hell needed every bit they could get their hands on right about now. Something about the attack on Hell’s Kitchen had Steve unsettled. It wasn’t the proximity of the assault or the number of casualties that had him on edge; you didn’t survive Loki, Ultron and Thanos and still get rattled by details like that. It was the _speed_ at which it had happened, the whole thing had started and ended in a matter of minutes. Thousands dead and God knows how many more injured and they hadn’t even been able to get there in time. Whoever was responsible was ruthless in a way nobody had seen before.

Christ, he hoped the Professor had some answers.

He arrived in the storage warehouses in the lower levels and found the room where the mutant inhibitors were kept. Steve hated the things. He hated how they terrified mutants, how they dehumanised them and most of all he hated the name the bigots had given them – ‘mutie collars’. That’s exactly what they were though – heavy collars of lead, rigorously devised to inhibit the X-Gene’s ability to produce a mutation. You could have the world’s most powerful mutant in one of these things and it would turn them into an average joe; completely incapable of producing their mutation until the collar was removed. Steve remembered the screams of the mutants who had been put in them after the New York Incident, their howls becoming more desperate as time went on. He didn’t know what it was like to lose a mutation – no matter how fleetingly – but he imagined it would be similar to losing one of your senses. A very specific form of torture.

Pulling one out of a box, he made his way hurriedly back up the stairs with the weight of the collar implausibly seeming to weigh him down. Nobody knew exactly when the Professor was going to arrive and they all wanted to be ready, despite how ridiculous their concerns were. Steve remembered something else about the New York Incident. He remembered how Professor X and the X-Men had fought alongside them and put their own lives on the line to fight their own kind. Steve remembered their courage, their tenacity and the unflinching support they had given the Avengers even when it seemed like the whole city was going to fall. He wasn’t going to fall into the trap of tarring all mutants with the same brush; he’d be damned if the thing he was carrying was going to end up on the Professor, to hell with S.H.I.E.L.D protocol.

 

*****

Natasha Romanoff was not a person who was used to experiencing fear. She’d long believed that the treatments she had been subjected to during her training at the Red Room had left her incapable of feeling the emotion at all. She’d come close in the past; her claustrophobic escape from a rampaging Hulk whilst on a Helicarrier had sent her adrenaline levels too high to be classified as exhilaration alone. Still, as she stood alongside her super-powered colleagues and at least 50 highly-trained S.H.I.E.L.D agents in one the most highly-guarded facilities in the world, she felt her hand shake as it clutched her pistol. Something about the situation was off. The massacre in Hell’s Kitchen this morning, the apparent mutant attackers and now a phone-call off the world’s leading mutant activist. Peter had made a joke once that maybe Natasha had ‘spidey-senses’ like him too. The last time mutants had been responsible for an attack on the city, the whole world had gone to hell. She hadn’t been scared that time, she wouldn’t be so naïve again.

A sudden crack of blue smoke appeared in front of them, in exactly the place Tony had told Xavier to arrive. She had chance to catch a glimpse of Nightcrawler before another crack signalled he’d teleported away from the facility – again, just like Tony had instructed them to do. Natasha’s inner alarm bells dimmed somewhat.

The smoke cleared and Natasha instantly saw that Xavier was not alone. Behind him were three others – Storm, Iceman and Phoenix. Her grip on her handgun tightened imperceptibly, this wasn’t what had been agreed. It took her another valuable second to realise there was another figure standing behind the X-Men; a figure she had prayed she’d never have to see again. The last time she had seen the man behind them he had brought a SUV down on her with nothing more than an uninterested flick of his wrist. Months of physical therapy and one cybernetic brace later and Natasha Romanoff had never been the same agent since. She raised her gun to take her shot and ignored the way her hand trembled. It took 1.4 seconds for the rest of her team to realise what was happening and follow suit.


	18. Unfeeling Metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers make their next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one but I'm making up for lost time! Next installment will be longer, I promise.
> 
> Apologies for any typos, due to real-life stuff I'm running on about four hours sleep :S

Charles felt the exact moment Natasha Romanoff decided to pull her trigger. In an instant, the room broke into silent pandemonium. Charles heard the cacophony of internal screams as everybody saw who was behind him. Doing all he could not to panic and freeze every non-mutant in the room, he simply thought _HESITATE_ as calmly as he could possibly muster. A direct order to drop their weapons - and Charles could see there was an impressive array of them pointed right at him - would be too obvious and would have everyone shouting ‘telepathic attack’ before he could do anything else.

‘Please, don’t shoot’ Charles spoke out-loud to the amassed crowd, ‘he’s not armed’

It was an agonisingly slow few seconds later before anyone answered, let alone lowered their weapons. He tried not to baulk at the sight of Thor, Black Panther and Doctor Strange standing in front of him; they must have arrived as soon as they heard what had happened this morning. Charles hadn’t bargained on them being there so soon.

‘That man is always armed’ Tony answered through gritted teeth, a handheld missile projector pointed straight at Erik’s chest.

‘He’s not here to fight Tony. He’s here to help. _We’re_ here to help’ Charles replied, speaking as soothingly as he could. Nobody moved. His X-Men were motionless behind him, but he could feel them all flex mentally, preparing to retaliate if they had to. With Erik wearing his crown, Charles was blind as to what the other man was thinking. It was Wanda Maximoff that broke the silence.

‘He’s telling the truth’ she announced to the room, her Sekovian accent almost non-existent after her time spent in the States. ‘They’re not here to fight’

‘Care to tell us how you’re so certain of that Wanda?’ Steve Rogers demanded, only a barely perceptible note of fear in his voice.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied, lowering her arm. The red crackle of power that had been burning between her fingers slowly faded away. ‘It’s him’ she continued, indicating Erik, ‘I can… _feel_ him somehow. He’s not here to harm anyone’

Charles didn’t know what the hell she meant by that and it looked like none of the others did either.

‘Sure enough of that feeling to risk the lives of everyone here?’ Black widow asked scornfully, her eyes not leaving the mutants for a second.

The Scarlet Witch tilted her head, a small frown on her face, her gaze seeming to scrutinise Erik. Charles resisted the urge to turn around and see how Erik was reacting to her assessment.

‘Yes’ she declared firmly.

It was enough. Slowly, the world’s ‘greatest defenders’ lowered their weapons. Charles allowed himself to breathe – he was particularly relieved to see T’Challa retract his claws; he had no intention of being on the receiving end of those. No-one was dead - yet.  

“Get a collar on him” Steve ordered the agents at the side of him, passing them the mutant inhibitor collar he had been holding. Before Charles had time to react, seven S.H.I.E.L.D agents had made their way over to Erik, knocked him to the ground and were holding him still so an eighth guard could get the collar on. Charles heard a metallic clatter as Erik’s crown fell from his head. He was about to ‘order’ Erik to stay still, to not fight back, when he realised the monarch _wasn’t_ fighting back. His expression was emotionless as the heavy restraint clasped around his neck and he didn’t resist the cloying hands of the agents dragging him once again to his feet. Although already agreed upon, Erik’s lack or response unnerved Charles in a way his outbursts never had.

The room watched on as Erik was marched towards an exit on the righthand side of the room, a door Charles couldn’t see through. Charles could hear the thoughts of the men dragging his friend away, their voices snarling obscenities inside the telepath’s mind. It was one stray thought that shocked him into reacting however;

_The freak won’t see the end of the day._

Charles didn’t know where the thought had come from; whether it was from the agents pulling Erik away or from the onlookers left standing in the room. It could have been from one of the Avengers themselves. All he knew was that he had not come this far to march Erik to his own execution.

“Stop!” Charles’ voice rang out across the room, angrier than what he’d intended it to be. All eyes turned to stare at him.

“I did not bring that man here to die. The help we can offer you will be useless without His Majesty here to see it through; either one of my team chaperones him out of here or he doesn’t leave our sight”. Charles hoped the use of Erik’s formal title would at least delay the inevitable. He didn’t dare chance a look at the other man; his resolve would break.

“You don’t call the shots here Charlie” Tony replied, flippantly dismissing him.

“I can _hear_ what they’re going to do to him” Charles said, doing all he could not to say or do something he’d later regret. Behind him Charles felt the subtle flare of his X-Men’s mutations - a flash of lightning across Ororo’s frontal cortex, a drop in temperature across Bobby’s cerebrum, the unmistakeable flare of something primal shooting up Jean’s brainstem.

“And if you thought this was going to play out any other way, you’re as naïve as they say you are” Stark replied.

Just as Charles allowed his own telepathy to stretch out and course around the room, another voice weighed in.

“No, Xavier is right”

Charles looked at T’Challa in surprise, his single-minded expression mirroring Charles’ own, now that he had removed his helmet.

“Come again now?” Stark asked incredulously, turning his condescending gaze onto Black Panther.

“That man,” T’Challa continued, pointing in Erik’s direction, “is the head of the first ever monarchy to be elected by its own people. I have watched as King Magnus has raised Genosha from a slave nation into what it is today…”

“Your Highness, if you’re about to start singing this monster’s praises…” Romanoff interrupted disdainfully.

“Monster or not, Magnus was single-handedly responsible for ending mutant slavery in Genosha and I will not return back home to explain to my neighbours that I allowed their leader to be put down like a rabid dog.” T’Challa’s voice was at once soothing yet brokered no argument.  “I have worked alongside this man for many years now and I know that if he meant us harm here today, we wouldn’t all be able to be standing here debating it. In all that he has done, I have never known him to lie. If Magnus says he is here to help, we need to listen”.

Charles had never stopped to think that T’Challa would know Erik personally - although not personally enough to refer to him by his real name. Wakanda and Genosha, whilst wildly different countries, were most probably no further apart than Montana and New Mexico. It would make sense that their two paths would cross.

“Your Majesty,” Romanoff answered, “we can’t just allow banned persons to come in here and make demands that compromise our security”

“Banned persons? You mean mutants Ms Romanoff. The mutants in front of you are no less than the X-Men, the same group of ‘banned persons’ that have fought by our side time and time again. Xavier has brought us America’s most-wanted terrorist - all without us having to lift a finger - and now only asks that one of his people accompany King Magnus to ensure he survives long enough to be of any help to us at all. Hardly an unreasonable demand”

Silence filled the room once more. Charles watched as Erik seemed to view the whole thing with amused detachment.

“I would personally request that Storm accompanies him. She has no telepathic or telekinetic powers that we know of and has been coming to humanity’s rescue since she was barely sixteen years old. That’s if you’re amenable professor?” T’Challa queried, turning to face Charles.

“Without question” Charles replied hurriedly, keenly aware that he was addressing a monarch in much the same way he had been when he spotted Erik in his crown for the first time.

“And you Magneto?” Thor questioned, speaking for the first time, “You would agree to such terms?”

“Whatever makes you people feel a little safer from me” Erik mocked, somehow still as domineering in a mutie collar as he was in a crown. It was a feat of nothing-less-than superhuman willpower that stopped Charles from telepathically smacking Erik for being such an insufferable wanker.

“Don’t test us magnet-man,” Tony warned, clearly still weighing up T’Challa’s words in his own mind, “Anyone here would be more than happy to finally put you down”

“No. You don’t get to pretend that today, Mr Stark’ Erik replied icily, his voice sending an involuntarily shiver down even Charles’ paralysed spine. ‘You don’t get to pretend that you’re doing me a favour by not attacking me. If you could stop me, if you actually had the ability to do so, you would have done by now. We’re all standing here right now - with me in this collar - because _I_ have chosen to be merciful towards _you._ Don’t you forget that, not even for a second’

A cruel smirk played its way across Erik’s mouth as an awful hush spread across the room. The swarm of bodies holding the German in place twitched and tightened in anticipation of what was to come. In the end, it was Steve Rogers who broke the tension.

“Storm, please make sure Magneto makes it to his cell untouched before I change my mind”

Charles watched as Ororo walked alongside Erik as he was taken away, knowing she wouldn’t leave his friend’s side. He was going to be alright. The Professor risked a quick glimpse into Erik’s mind - one last touch before he was gone.

A wave of terror crashed over Charles, almost shocking the Brit into crying out. Erik was terrified; a complete contrast to the uninterested demeanour the other man was projecting. Competing memories of faceless cells, sensory deprivation, cruel guards and power inhibition clawed at Erik’s mind, all vying for prime position. Magneto had been imprisoned and deprived of his powers before, sometimes for years at a time; he knew exactly what was coming. Charles imagined a world where he couldn’t feel or hear the reassuring presence of other minds around him and felt his stomach churn. The agents pushed Erik out of the room before Charles could so much as reassure him.

The Professor turned back to the room, nobody any less on-guard than they had been before.

“Professor,” Steve began, running a hand through his hair, “I _really_ need you to give me a reason not to put one of those things on you too”


	19. Parker Industries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cross-over begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any inaccuracies regarding American terminology - I'm not a native!

Peter Parker had learnt of yesterday’s tragedy like the rest of the world – on the national news. From what he could gather it wasn’t Tony’s usual overprotectiveness that had stopped him from being called in but rather that none of the Avengers had got there on time. Still, it was another 24 hours and what seemed like a lifetime of stress before Tony lit up his phone.

“Pete, we’re gonna need you to come in” Stark said without greeting.

“Couldn’t get anyone better?’ Parker replied sarcastically, his days of being Tony’s ‘Yes Sir’ protegee far behind him. The older man had always kept him at an arms distance from what he considered to be ‘real’ work and Peter had long suspected that it was a lack of trust, rather than a misguided sense of responsibility, that made Tony do it.

“We’re bringing everyone in” he replied, his voice lacking its usual cockiness. A cold wave of apprehension made it’s way through Peter. He remembered the last time everyone had been called in.

“What’s going on Tony?”

“I can’t really say over the phone. Let’s just say we have some visitors and could do with your technical know-how”

After graduating and enduring a soulless apprenticeship at Horizon Labs, Peter had set up Parker Industries with the aim of developing new technologies for his alter-ego Spiderman. A combination of hard work and an incredible amount of good luck had seen the small business somehow grow into a multinational corporation. That being said, there was currently only one design created by Parker Industries that Stark Industries didn’t have the license for – mutant inhibitor collars.

“You’ve got about 60% of my stock in Avenger’s warehouses Tony, you don’t need to call me in if that’s what you’re after” Peter said, finding himself hoping that _was_ all that the Avengers needed. He desperately refused to think of the last time they’d needed him for anything else.

“Mmmm,” Stark answered evasively, “It looks like we may have a few other requests too”

Peter’s stomach dropped.

“Mutants?”

For a few moments, Tony said nothing.

“Yes”

“Him?” Peter asked, childishly refusing to say the name he dreaded most. A peal of laughter from the other man took Peter by surprise.

“Yes …but possibly not in the way you’re thinking. Just get here Peter”

Stark hung up the phone without another word. As if in a trance, Peter set down the equipment he had been holding, took off his lab coat and made his way out of the building. As always, his car was parked directly outside the lab, the glare of the midday sun beaming off the red paintwork. He fastened his belt, turned on the radio and after a few minutes, found himself on the freeway making his way towards Avengers HQ.

At a guess, Peter would estimate it took a half hour of driving before his mental resolve broke. Unbidden and unwanted, the memory of MJ’s last moments cruelly replayed itself in his mind. He’d been told to stay with the others, to maintain an ongoing assault to ensure Manhattan didn’t fall, but when Peter had heard that the magnetic shifts were starting to affect Queens, he’d frantically made his way back home, ignoring his teammates increasingly desperate protests for him to stay and fight. When he finally arrived at home in Forest Hills, Peter saw what a mistake he’d made. His old apartment had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of rubble amongst an already decimated street.

They never did find Aunt May.

Peter could still taste the bile that had filled his mouth as he desperately made his way to MJ’s place, fuelled by a combination of blind panic and sheer terror. Buildings had cracked and crumbled around him as he travelled, his webbing failing more than once as it attached itself to homes that were already falling. Peter had prayed to any god that would listen that he made it in time to see MJ.

And he had. He’d arrived just in time to watch through her window as MJ’s entire apartment collapsed. Before he could make it through the window, the ceiling had come crashing down on his fiancée and a few seconds later, the entire building itself had followed. She had been looking out of the window -perhaps waiting for Peter to come and rescue her -when it happened; allowing Peter a perfect view of the pure terror that crossed her face as the first boulder of debris crashed into her shoulder.

Magneto had been over ten miles away when it happened, completely unaware and totally indifferent to the devastation he was causing in another borough. The metal beams in the city’s infrastructure had folded under his control, regardless of where the mutant was or what attack Peter’s friends had been launching at him. Nothing had worked. There wasn’t a single structure that had been left untouched by the time Magneto had finished and everyone had lost someone; Peter’s grief was far from unique.

Sometimes he found himself wondering what would have happened if he had stayed in Manhattan, had continued fighting with the rest of the team. Would it have made a difference? Would anyone have been spared? He already knew the answer though. The only thing that had stopped the onslaught had been when the government had finally met Magneto’s demands and allowed free, unrestricted travel to any mutant wishing to move to Genosha.

Peter had played the part of hero before and had been found lacking. He wasn’t certain if he was up to taking on the role again. He pressed harder on the gas pedal and saw Avengers towers loom in the distance.

 

*****

 

Scott had spent the remainder of the day pretending that nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He and Emma had ushered the students back to their lessons for the afternoon, whilst he checked and rechecked the mansion’s defences. If things didn’t go well over in Manhattan, the first place the Avengers would come was Westchester. Scott mentally prepared himself for an attack he’d always secretly suspected would come to pass. Emma had done what little she could to calm his nerves, much to Scott’s surprise; she’d retested every security measure they had, not seeming to mind the mud that had smeared its way over her bright white heels as she did so. As a final measure, she had promised to keep a telepathic forcefield around the grounds whilst the children slept. Scott couldn’t think of any reason to doubt her - it was her husband’s life on the line along with everybody else’s after all. Ex-husband. Whatever.

 

The ring of his phone woke Scott early the next morning, tearing him from the little sleep he’d managed to get. Ignoring the glaring absence of Jean lying in bed next to him, Scott cleared his throat and checked the caller ID. A wave of dread rolled through his stomach.

“Cyclops”

Scott hastily searched Roger’s voice for any clues as to what had happened yesterday, finding nothing.

“Cap” he replied, his own voice reflecting a confidence Scott didn’t feel.

“We received some friends of yours yesterday. Took us a bit by surprise”

“I hope you can see why we couldn’t give advanced notice,” Scott swallowed, his still sleep-addled brain racing to catch up with the conversation, “Is Jean okay?”

“Jean’s fine”

“Can I talk to her?” Scott asked, knowing he wasn’t focussing on what he needed to.

“In time” Rogers answered. Something about Cap’s tone managed to raise Scott’s hackles as it always did. Who was Rogers to stop him from speaking to his own wife? Jean hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So if you’re not going to let me speak to my wife, why are you ringing Rogers?”

“You sent a terrorist into S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters”

“We sent you a lifeline and you know it” Scott shot back, he’d been expecting this sort of response. “We saw what happened in Hell’s Kitchen and decided to help, no matter the consequences. We decided not to help just our people Rogers, but your people too. Tell me, can you say you would have done the same if the attack had happened at the mansion instead? Or District X?”

“Don’t make this a human/mutant thing Cyclops. You’ve been sheltering a wanted man” Rogers said, the warning in his voice doing nothing to calm Scott’s anger.

“Next time King Magnus shows up here, we’ll be sure to send him straight your way then – minus the mutant escort we delivered him with yesterday” he snapped back, remembering Erik’s advice to avoid calling him Magneto.

“You know that’s not the issue here”

“Rogers, I am _sure_ you’d like to think that we’ve come a long way since your glory days in the war but I’m telling you first-hand, we have not. If you are a mutant in this world, you are guilty until proven innocent; it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve helped, how many humans you’ve rescued or even how many Avengers you’ve saved. If you are different, if you are like us, society will do everything it can to knock you down and _then_ decide what to do with you”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“You’re too close to this. Magneto being a mutant isn’t the issue here”

“Maybe _you’r_ e not close enough, Captain”

He heard the other man sigh down the phone.

“Your friends are safe Summers. In spite of your continued distaste for everything the Avengers do, we’re all working together”

Scott refused to feel the embarrassment Rogers obviously wanted him to experience. Jean was safe.

“Magneto’s in custody but the rest of your team have the run of the place” Rogers appeased.

“I don’t care what you do with _him_ ”

Scott was surprised how much of a lie his statement was. He actually didn’t want anything bad to happen to Erik.

“We need Beast here” Captain announced, getting to the reason behind his call.

“Why?” Scott asked, frowning.

“We need his data, his schematics. He knows how these _demons_ work and we need to know too. If we can run a simulator or something similar here too, it’ll give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with”

“Can’t the Professor tell you all of that?” Charles was the one who had actually ‘seen’ the demon after all. It may have been through Magik’s mind but still…it was the closest any of them had got.

“With all due respect, we need the expert”

Scott considered it. He wouldn’t just be losing an experienced teammate and a good teacher, he’d be losing a friend at a time when they needed all the help they could get. Could the Avengers be trusted? Scott knew that if they – the X-Men _and_ the Avengers – were going to do this though, they needed to share what they knew.

“I’ll get Kurt to bring him over” Scott sighed, hoping he wasn’t making a bad call.

“Thank you” Cap replied, the relief clear in his voice.

Scott went to hang up.

“Oh, and Cyclops?”

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me you have this whole thing under control”

Scott scoffed. Rogers could be referring to God-knows how many screwed up things that had happened over the past few months.

“I don’t have any of it under control” he answered truthfully.

“At least try to keep me in the loop”

“There is no loop”

“Just…”

“I’ll do my best Captain” Scott smiled despite himself.

“That’s all I can ask”

“That’s all I can do”

 

*****

 

A miracle had happened and not only were all five mutants still alive, but four of them had been given unrestricted access to building. Granted, one of them had to keep guard outside Erik’s cell at all times and there was no denying the way that most S.H.I.E.L.D personnel subconsciously reached for their guns as soon as a mutant walked into the room, but Charles wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. They’d used every bit of diplomacy they had, cashed in _a lot_ of favours and used more begging than Charles was willing to remember, but they were safe. For now.

The Professor had been less than happy when he’d heard that Tony had called in Peter Parker. He’d never met the man before – hadn’t even been in the same room – but his name was a dirty word in the mutant community. A scientific whizz-kid that had turned into a technological mogul, Parker was most famous for the notorious mutie collars his lab had been responsible for creating; the very thing that was currently clamped around Erik’s neck. The collars had meant mutants had been able to be imprisoned with humans, saving countless governments billions in tax-payers money. Of course, some had fallen into the wrong hands whilst others had been used on innocent mutants – but why should Parker care about that? The collars had made him rich.

The headquarters’ speaker system announced the scientist’s arrival moments before the heavy doors of the lab slid open. Charles looked up from the diagrams Banner was showing him to take in the rooms’ new arrival. Parker was younger than his press photos made him out to be; the man couldn’t be a day older than 25. It was with no small amount of satisfaction that Charles noticed the way he froze in fear when he saw Charles, Ororo and Jean in the room. Tony only looked up from his work at Parker’s hesitation to come any further into the room.

“Good, you’re here” he said, walking over to the younger man and wrapping him into a fatherly hug. Charles remembered that it had been Stark that had funded Parker’s earliest research. Parker didn’t take his eyes off Charles.

“I’m either really happy you’re here or we’re all screwed” he said directly to Charles. Tony laughed and patted Parker’s shoulder whilst Charles tried to work out what he meant.

“Pete, be happy – Charles & Co are here to help”

“But you said…” the younger man trailed off.

“You mean Magneto?” Tony replied flippantly, “Oh, Mr Angry’s here but he’s currently under lock and key with one of _your_ collars around his murderous neck” Tony’s words did nothing to ease the nauseous look that flashed across the other man’s face. Charles had almost forgotten the very real fear Erik’s proximity caused most people.

Slapping Parker on the back, Tony ushered the man over towards the desk Charles and Banner were working at.

“Pete, meet an old friend of mine”

“Professor X” the young man said, almost stumbling over the words.

“Mr Parker” Charles replied coolly, his usual cheeriness dampened by the thought of the cold metal on Erik’s neck. Tony didn’t miss Charles’ tone.

“Ah. Charlie, I can understand why you may not be the biggest fan of Pete’s work…”

Charles stayed silent, noting the icy glare both Ororo and Jean were levelling at the young man from the other side of the room.

“…but Pete’s actually one of mutantkind’s biggest defenders”

“Forgive me Tony but, I’m struggling to see how neutering us is defending us” he intoned, refusing to look away from where Parker stood squirming.

“Charles, relax, I haven’t invited Pete over for his brain.…”

“You haven’t?” Parker all but squeaked.

“Well I mean, yes, _obviously_ \- but it’s your other attributes we’re going to need to make use of too” Tony soothed. “Charles tells us we’ve got a life or death sort of scenario on our hands here and against all odds kid, I believe him. We’re going to need _everybody’s_ cards on the table”

Parker hesitated, clearly unwilling to give Charles all the information he needed. Impatience sparked inside of the Professor.

“I’m…”

“Spiderman” Charles interrupted, his telepathy pulling out the information he needed. It was hardly the most shocking thing he’d learnt recently. And Spiderman _was_ an ally to the mutant cause. He’d been one of the few to offer his help within the community and was one of the loudest protestors when the controversial interspecies legislation had been drawn up. Charles was surprised it had been Parker behind the mask all this time. He’d always made a point not to listen in to even the most innocuous of Spiderman’s surface thoughts on the few occasions they had met before, out of respect for the man’s well-defended privacy.

Tony scowled at the Brit whilst Banner almost imperceptibly took a step away from Charles.

“Now Charlie, that’s the type of behaviour that can make people twitchy” Stark reprimanded, his sarcasm not quite masking the anger behind his words. It had been a long time since he’d used his telepathy amongst humans; it was rarely well received.

“Are you going to put a collar on me too?” he practically dared Stark. Charles was all too aware how similar he sounded to Erik.

“Mr Xavier,” Parker spoke up, stepping away from Tony, “I can’t begin to understand what its like to wear an inhibitor, so I won’t even try, but please know I’m doing everything I can to make sure one never makes its way onto an innocent mutant again. My team have ensured they are all but off the streets now and the latest changes to the law mean they can’t be used be in anything less than a criminal trial”

Charles was struck by how child-like Parker’s mannerisms were, how uncomfortable he seemed to be within his own skin. His telepathy meant he could also feel the sincerity behind the younger man’s words.

“I can show you” Charles said simply.

“Excuse me?” Parker asked, clearly not following Charles’ train of thought.

“I can show you what its like to wear a collar. My mutation allows me to access the innermost parts of your psyche, the very thing that makes you _you_ , if you will. I could shut down your abilities, leaving you a regular human – temporarily of course”

“Absolutely” Parker answered immediately.

“Absolutely **not** ” Tony interjected, practically stepping between the two of them. “Xavier, I’m not about to allow you to start throwing your telepathy around like a weapon”

“If I was using it as a weapon, I wouldn’t be asking” Charles replied level-headedly.

“Tony, it’s okay” the younger man said, stepping once again from behind Stark. “What sort of scientist would I be if I wasn’t willing to try out my own design?”

“This isn’t your own design, this is allowing yourself to be telepathically manipulated” Tony countered.

“By both the world’s most trusted and most powerful telepath. I think I’m in safe hands”

Parker took another step towards Charles. He was impressed by the young man’s willingness, very few others, not even mutants, were as trusting.

“Do you need to touch my head or something?” he asked self-consciously.

“No” Charles smiled, “I could do it from the next state if I wanted. Are you ready?”

“Yes?” the younger man swallowed, clearly doubting his own sanity.

Charles was careful only to touch those part of Parker’s mind that were linked to his heightened abilities. Deftly and surely, he found and ‘turned off’ his strength, speed, physiology, precognition and spiderweb production. He doubted if the other man had felt a thing.

 “Try to lift something up” he instructed simply once he was certain not a single synapse could fire.

Charles watched as Parker scanned the room for something to lift; he seemed to settle on an automatic analyser not far from where Ororo was standing. Charles guessed that the average analyser, whereas not the heaviest things in the word, and nowhere near Spiderman’s weight capacity, would take at least four ‘regular’ humans to lift. The younger man crouched to lift the machine from below. It didn’t move an inch.

“What the…” Parker muttered to himself.

He went to try again, the sinews in his arms standing out as Parker increased his effort. It made no difference; Charles could feel the muscles his brain was trying to access - the message would never send. Astonishment washed over the man’s face.

“That’s unbelievable” Parker’s astonishment was clear in his statement.

“It’s a very simple trick,” Charles explained, “you won’t be able to access any of your abilities whilst I’m in your head”.

Several minutes passed as Parker tried with increasing urgency to trigger his powers. The Professor watched as Parker tried to shoot webs, lift all manner of increasing ridiculous objects and failed spectacularly at Spiderman’s trademark gymnastics. Charles also noted the exact moment the novelty wore off. Parker had been thinking about his ‘spidey’ senses and how vulnerable he was without them. Panic and self-doubt filled his psyche. Charles allowed him another minute before releasing his hold on the man’s mind. Despite himself, from the short time he’d spent inside the other’s mind, Charles could tell he was a good man at heart. He couldn’t allow a good man to suffer.

“And I think that’s enough” Charles interrupted Peter’s increasingly fervent musings. He saw Tony visibly relax. “You’ll be able to use any and all of your gifts now as you usually would”

Peter seemed to consider his next words carefully.

“That was not an entirely pleasant experience” he said, trying for light-hearted but missing the mark completely.

“Now imagine how that would feel for a day, a month, a year. Ten years. Because that is what His Majesty has already had to endure at the hands of humans. A fitting punishment if he had committed the crime he was accused of, but that was not the case, and now he has come here to help, at the X-Men’s request, and finds himself caged once again” Ororo challenged, surprising the Professor by directly challenging Erik’s incarceration. Charles didn’t think he would have dared such a bold move; challenging the collars on principle was a very different affair than challenging their use on the international criminal downstairs.

“You sound like you have quite the soft spot for him” Banner accused, breaking his usual silence. Peter just looked confused.

Ororo levelled a look at Banner that could stop a tsunami in its tracks.

“King Magnus has my sympathy as a holocaust survivor who has been repeatedly falsely imprisoned, in increasingly hostile situations, over the course of his life. Even a mutant has that much humanity Dr Banner”

“Care to remember that Magneto has murdered countless innocent people Storm?” Tony interjected.

“And if that was why he had been locked away, you would have my complete support. That isn’t what has happened though; we convinced him to help and you’re making him suffer for it”

An awful tension filled the room and Charles didn’t know how to break it.

“Magneto’s here to _help_?” Peter asked sceptically.

“So our good Professor claims” Tony muttered.

“Can you think of any other reason on earth why I’d bring that man here?” Charles asked, careful not to sound too close to Erik.

Another silence.

“Anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on?” Peter asked frustratedly.

Charles took a breath and repeated the story.

 


End file.
